


What Happens in Phnom Nonh...

by Claranon



Category: Dragon Quest Series, Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Author Suffered Writing This 2019, F/M, Fake Marriage, It's Act 2 time baby!, Stranded Together, The most notable being:, There are more but I don't want to spoil the fun, This fic is just a blender of ridiculous romantic tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 18:19:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 35,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19115128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claranon/pseuds/Claranon
Summary: A Zoom-defying storm leaves Jade and Hendrik stranded in Phnom Nonh, where they must resort to some unconventional methods to get by. Between bandits, bed-sharing, and bunny girls, what will happen when this princess and knight are forced to confront certain truths they'dverymuch rather keep hidden?





	1. Marry in Haste, Invent at Leisure

**Author's Note:**

> **Hypothesis** : Late Act 2 Jade and Hendrik require only one (1) carefully-deployed romantic trope as a catalyst for hooking up.
> 
>  **Experiment** : Instead of just _one_ trope, what would happen if half a _dozen_ were thrown into the mix and shaken thoroughly?
> 
>  **Results** : As follows.

 

* * *

 

“You see, miss—a robust material, yes? And the colour would flatter you very finely, I think so!”

Jade swallowed down a sigh and cast about for some excuse to make to the remarkably _persistent_ shopkeeper before her. She hated people trying to sell her things, and the merchants of Phnom Nonh—struck by the dual blow of the mural’s destruction and the fall of Yggdrasil—were evidently trying to make up in enthusiasm what they now lacked in customers.

“I’m not sure it offers the kind of protection I’m looking for,” she declined, eyeing the Strongsam doubtfully.

Unfortunately, this was only taken as a challenge. “But there are many _other_ uses for such a garment, yes?” the shopkeeper insisted. He held the garishly red outfit even closer, apparently on the off-chance that her vision was failing. “Life is not only about armour rating! We must also _live_ it to the fullest!”

He paused, and added almost bashfully: “Especially, if I may say, for a lovely young woman like yourself, miss.”

Ah, not just persistence, then; Jade was certain that if she squinted, she’d be able make out the hearts shining in his eyes. This reaction was often even _more_ an inevitability than the desperation of a merchant trying to close a sale.

“I’m afraid that’s not relevant to my needs—” she started to say, not wanting to completely crush his spirits. As it turned out, however, he was either _incapable_ of taking a hint, or had entirely resolved _not_ to.

“In fact, I have a changing area in the back for you to try it on, if you wish!” the shopkeeper continued eagerly. “Most convenient for you, I think so!”

A spark of irritation flashed through her, but she shoved it back down. The man was far more oblivious than predatory, and it wasn’t worth having to find _another_ armour shop—with the possibility of equally amorous shop tenders—when the day was marching on.

“I don’t think so, sorry,” she replied firmly. “Now, what do I owe you for the rest of it?”

As the shopkeeper packed up the assortment of armour she’d picked out, visibly drooping with disappointment, Jade counted out enough gold to offset the discount she knew he’d given her. There was a time when she had relied on such favours to scrimp and save every last shilling, but nothing gave her greater relief now than to be able to decline them—and all the strings attached alongside.

She was just considering how to carry the lot of it when Hendrik came back over from his perusal of the weapon merchant’s stall.

“Have you finished, Princess?” he asked her. He’d obviously taken care of his part of the shopping, a bundle of fearsome weapons propped up in the crook of one arm. Jade noted that the armour merchant had seemed to find a pressing reason to scurry to the backroom upon the appearance of the knight—not an uncommon reaction, really.

“I think I’ve got everything,” she said, frowning slightly as she mentally calculated how best to disperse the load between them. “If you could just grab the helmets and the chestpieces, then I’ll carry the...”

Jade trailed off as Hendrik wordlessly bent down and gathered up the pile in its entirety, lifting it as easily as if it were made from silks instead of steel. Well—all right, then. She made no attempt to object; what use was there in having a companion with arms like tree trunks if one did not take advantage of the convenience they provided?

“I suppose that’s settled,” she said instead, brushing her bangs back from her face. “What else is left?”

Hendrik frowned and shifted the bundle in his arms. “I must confess to ignorance on that score, Your Highness. Despite these months of travel, Lord Robert’s penmanship remains rather indecipherable to me.”

Jade smiled as she reached over to pluck the crinkled shopping list from Hendrik’s belt. “It’s a wonder he was a king once, isn’t it?” she mused aloud, squinting at the parchment. “Lady Eleanor apparently started insisting on his using scribes after he accidentally sent out a proclamation honouring the sheep _charmers_ of Dundrasil.”

“Yes, I recall the circumstance,” Hendrik replied, his brow furrowing in recollection. “King Carnelian assumed it to be a jest at the time.”

“No, just Rab being...well, Rab.” Shoddy handwriting finally puzzled out, Jade looked up again. “All we need are a few Extra Murals from the item shop. The others should be back from Hotto by then.”

The knight nodded overtop the arsenal that filled his arms. “Lead the way, Princess.”

Foreboding clouds were beginning to move in above the high cliffs surrounding Phnom Nonh as they made their way through the town. The lantern-lit streets were far emptier than the last time Jade had visited, before the World Tree’s fall. The people didn’t seem to be in poor spirits, but it was a stark difference from the bustling clamour she remembered.

“I had hoped the town would be more prosperous by now,” Hendrik remarked, also glancing around as they walked. “Perhaps even those treasures recovered from Avarith’s lair were inadequate to their needs.”

“It’s not easy for anyone in Erdrea these days,” Jade replied with a twinge of melancholy. She’d never enjoyed visiting Phnom Nonh during her travels with Rab, but no one deserved to live in hardship—especially after what Hendrik and Sylvando had said about their trials some months ago. It was a shame they were still struggling to recover.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, furtive movement at the edge of her vision, and Jade instinctively jerked her head around to look. All she managed to catch was a dark flash before it disappeared into a nearby alleyway. She paused, frowning after it.

“Is something amiss, Princess?” Hendrik asked her, immediately on high alert. His gloved hand moved reflexively to his sword hilt—which, of course, caused him to relinquish his grip on several of the armour pieces.

The loud clatter on the cobbled streets broke whatever momentary spell Jade had been under. She turned away from the alley just in time to chase after a rolling helmet before it fell down one of the town’s many steep staircases. Hendrik’s grimacing dismay brought a small smile to her face as she returned to him and helped gather up the rest of it.

“Should I go back to the armour shop and request a crate?” she asked lightly, re-balancing the helmet on top of the precarious pile of equipment in his arms.

“I would not wish you to trouble yourself,” Hendrik said with a shake of his head. He then added, with a hint of dryness: “Although if you _were_ to ask, I am certain the shopkeeper would be most eager to accommodate you.”

Jade looked away and made some show of adjusting her gloves in order to hide her widening smile. Ever oblivious to the desperate attentions of women on four separate continents, Hendrik certainly seemed to have a knack for noticing when men were interested in _her_. It would have been irritating, had his inexorable knightliness compelled him to adopt a protective role; but thankfully, he seemed well aware of her ability to handle herself, and generally left it alone.

“Do you really think so?” she asked mischievously, never able to resist an opportunity to tweak his short-cropped beard—figuratively speaking, of course. “Perhaps he might even throw in a free shield if I bat my eyelashes at him.”

There was a minuscule movement in Hendrik’s jaw and she instantly knew that he was clenching it. “A true knight endeavours to support any stratagem his future monarch wishes to enact, both in and out of battle,” he replied with iron resolve.

“Well, that’s a comfort,” Jade tossed back, smile finally tamed as she turned to face him once more. “It’d probably work better without your standing five feet away glowering at the poor man, though. Come on, let’s go find the item shop.”

They procured the Extra Murals from the young girl who ran the store and graciously accepted her offer of a crate—no batting of _anyone’s_ eyelashes required. After that, they had only to wait for the rest of the party to return from their own supply runs at sundown. Too restless to sit around the main square, Jade paid an enterprising pair of children to watch their purchases—over Hendrik’s strenuous objections that he had only dropped them the _once_ —and they set out again, her wanting to show him the Nhou Wat ruins with the bit of time they had left.

It was honestly refreshing to explore the place with someone who _wasn’t_ constantly complaining about the endless stairs, like Rab always did. Small wonder, she thought, her eyes lingering on Hendrik’s substantial legs as he easily climbed the steps just ahead of her; his arms weren’t the _only_ tree trunks that sprouted from his massive torso.

So occupied she was by her covert examination of his bulk that Jade missed the last step of the stone staircase leading up to the plateau. She let out a startled cry as she tripped, and would have met the ground in a _thoroughly_ undignified manner had certain recently-pondered limbs not suddenly reached out to catch her.

“Are you unwell, Princess?” Hendrik asked worriedly, his eyes scanning her for invisible injuries as he helped her right herself again. “If the climb has wearied you, then would it not be better to—”

“I’m fine, Hendrik,” she said quickly, embarrassed at having given the impression that a few dozen _stairs_ were too much for her. She could feel the warmth of his skin through his leather gloves, and the contrast with the cool air of the plateau sent a brief shiver down her spine.

Once assured that she was in no imminent danger, Hendrik immediately dropped his hands from her arms. An unconscious frown flashed across Jade’s face as she watched him withdraw. It was rare these days that Hendrik ever touched her and he was always very prompt in letting go; a far cry from the casual affection they’d once shared together. True, they’d both been much younger then, but she’d thought at least _something_ of their one-time bond might still remain.

A memory, hazed over with crimson fog: _And you can keep your hands to yourself._

“Princess?”

Hendrik’s eyes were searching her face, concern creeping into them once more. Jade shook her head slightly to clear her mind and offered him a small smile.

“Let’s go see the ruins before the rain starts,” she told him, eyeing the threatening clouds overhead. And with that she set off, Hendrik having no choice but to follow her.

They’d occasionally spoken of their adventures in the mural over the campfire at night, but Jade now told the whole story to Hendrik as they descended the stairs to the Nhou Wat ruins and entered the sunken main building. The area was deserted, as it probably had been ever since their defeat of the demon inside it.

“It almost defies credulity,” Hendrik murmured as they stood together before the empty space on the wall. “Truly, the magic in this world has depths beyond mortal comprehension.”

“I think we’ve all learned a bit about that in the past year,” Jade agreed quietly.

He looked down at her, his stern face softened by a somber compassion that twisted something inside her chest. It suddenly felt like a mistake to come here, too close to this reminder of the trials they had endured thanks to Moredegon’s evil influence.

“Well,” she said in a louder voice, trying to force her way past the moment, “if you truly _are_ incredulous, we could always hop inside so I can give you a tour.”

As she’d hoped, Hendrik’s brow immediately furrowed with alarm.

“Your Highness, I must _strongly_ advise against such a course of action,” he objected, one fist coming up to his chest. “If this mural yet contains such foes as you described, it would be a perilous undertaking for the two of us to venture into...”

Hendrik’s mouth drifted shut as he finally registered the amusement on her face. “Ah,” he said then, resignation in his voice. “You seek to provoke me for your own enjoyment, Princess?”

“I haven’t any idea why you volunteered for _this_ outing,” she teased as they both turned to leave the room. “I’d have had much more fun with Sylvando, anyway. He’s been telling me all about your childhood in Puerto Valor, you know.”

“There is nothing in my youthful past that could cause me undue shame or humiliation,” Hendrik declared, waving her through the doorway first with a courtesy so long-practiced it had become second nature.

“Is that so, Sir Hendrik?” Jade asked innocently. “Not even the jellyfish incident?”

To her credit, she _did_ manage to avoid outright laughing at his aghast expression—but it was a very near thing.

“That—you—but he—we swore ourselves to _secrecy_ about the matter!“ Hendrik sputtered in outrage. “Solemn oaths, no less binding than any given in the course of our service as knights! Whatever could he be _thinking_ of?”

“You’ll have a chance to confront him about it shortly,” Jade reassured the scandalized man as they marched back up the steps. “Just so long as you promise to let all the _rest_ of us watch.”

The rain was just beginning to fall when they reached the main square of town again. Huge droplets plummeted down from the sky and an ominous thundering accompanied the start of the deluge. Jade and Hendrik hurried under the shelter of the inn’s large awning, crate of equipment once more in the knight’s capable hands.

“The others should be back soon,” Jade said, uselessly trying to make out the position of the sun behind the roiling clouds. Hendrik made an indistinct sound of agreement beside her and deposited the crate on the ground next to him while they waited.

A minute turned into several, then a dozen, then an hour. The townsfolk of Phnom Nonh—obviously well used to such dreary weather—scurried about their business with hooded cloaks as the princess and the knight looked on. The light began to fade, and the square gradually emptied out as people returned to their homes for the evening.

“You don’t think...something’s happened, do you?” Jade finally asked, voicing the thought that had been looming larger and larger in her mind as the minutes crept by.

As usual, Hendrik spoke with all the conviction of a convert’s faith in the divine. “As sworn companions of the Luminary, I am certain that we would know if some harm were to befall our comrades.”

“I’m not,” she replied softly, thinking of a quiet, wooded grove and its still occupant. Her eyes started to sting around the edges and she blinked rapidly until the feeling passed.

Hendrik seemed to take her meaning and fell into silence, and they once more looked out into the rainy square. A nearby bird chittered as it settled down in some unseen nest above the rafters of the awning.

Too anxious to wait any longer, Jade had just resolved to find some covering so she could investigate the path into town, when a group of travellers came rushing up the steps of the inn. They appeared to be a family, comprising two parents and their four children.

“Are you _sure_ you’re casting it correctly?” the mother asked waspishly as they stood on the landing beside Jade and Hendrik and shook the water off their clothes. She was trying to shush the wailing infant in her arms, without much notable success.

“Yes, dear,” the father said in a long-suffering voice. “I’ve told you a thousand times, the magical pathways don’t always work right when it’s storming out, remember?”

“What _I_ remember is that _I_ wanted to go to Lonalulu so the children could see the ocean, but _you_ insisted on stopping by to visit your uncle here first. ‘It’ll only be a quick trip, darling—don’t forget that I can Zoom!’ Well, where does that get us _now_ , I ask—”

The woman’s rant was cut off as they disappeared into the inn, but Jade hardly noticed with the sudden wave of relief that crashed through her. There hadn’t _truly_ been much reason to worry, of course, but she’d always had a hard time letting go of certain old habits.

“Did you hear that?” she asked Hendrik eagerly. “They must not be able to get back because of the storm!”

“Indeed,” he replied, looking much less tense himself, despite his earlier words. “I had heard that the spell has become less reliable since the World Tree’s fall. I fear we may be stranded until the weather clears.”

“Well, I’m certainly not spending it stuck out _here_ ,” Jade declared as she walked over to grab the handle of the inn’s front door. Hendrik picked up the crate of equipment behind her and followed her into the noisy, warm, blessedly _dry_ taproom on the lower level of the inn. It was full of people evidently avoiding the deluge outside. The bartender was pouring drinks with scarcely a break in between, while busy servers carried large plates of food to the tables. Jade caught a whiff of some kind of roasted meat and suddenly realized how ravenous she was.

“We should probably get a couple rooms, just in case,” she said to the knight beside her. “I can do that—I know the innkeeper and her husband.”

He nodded, shifting the weight of the crate in his arms. “I will inquire as to supper while you secure our lodgings.”

Jade could hear the sound of squabbling children as she climbed the steps to the second floor of the inn. The family of travellers was at the front desk, presumably having had the same idea as her. She leaned against the stairwell railing as she waited for them to finish, idly fiddling with the laces on her arm guards. The storm continued to rage beyond the open balconies of the lobby.

A movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention and she looked up. One of the children, a girl around eight years old, was standing before her.

“Hello,” Jade said, tilting her head curiously. Children were somewhat of a mystery to her after growing up with only an elderly man for companionship— _despite_ his constant claims of being ‘young at heart’.

“Hi,” the girl replied shyly. “I just...I just wanted to say...I think you’re really pretty.” This last part came out in a rush, and the girl dropped her gaze to stare intently at her own shoes.

“Oh—thank you.” Oddly touched, Jade knelt down at eye level with the girl in the hopes of putting her more at ease. “I quite like your ribbons, myself. Did you pick them out?”

The girl glanced over at the bright fabric adorning her braids. “I...I guess so,” she whispered.

“Well, they’re lovely,” Jade smiled. “Are you travelling with your family?”

Her young friend scowled, timidity overcome at once by a child’s natural eagerness to complain. “Yes, and I _hate_ making all these trips with my brothers,” she burst out. “They’re noisy and smelly and they ruin everything!”

“That sounds quite aggravating,” Jade acknowledged with a sympathetic nod. “I haven’t any brothers, so I wouldn’t know.”

A delighted smile came over the girl’s face. “Really? I wasn’t sure if that man you were with outside was your brother or your boyfriend,” she chattered excitedly. “I’m so glad he’s not your brother—he’s _very_ handsome. I hope _my_ boyfriend is just as good-looking someday.”

Jade blinked at her, momentarily flummoxed. “Ah...that is...”

“Time to go, love!” the mother called from the front desk. The girl gave Jade an enthusiastic wave and dashed off, leaving the princess crouched on the floor staring after her. She blinked again and shook her head, smiling to herself about the naive assumptions of children as she rose and walked over to the desk.

Another surprise awaited her there, and she paused at the sight of the unfamiliar woman of middle years behind the counter.

“Yes, miss? Can I help you?” The woman squinted at Jade suspiciously, as if her martial artist’s garb was enough to instantly condemn her as a probable troublemaker.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jade apologized. “I was expecting Mony’s wife.”

“I am Mony’s sister, Parsi,” the woman sniffed. “He and his wife travel to the Academy for a new business idea of his. During the rainy season and with so many bandits about lately—foolishness! But I always watch the inn in their absence, I think so.”

“Ah, of course,” Jade agreed politely, secretly lamenting the replacement of Mony’s kind, helpful wife by this rather cantankerous-looking substitute. “In any event, I’d like two rooms for tonight, please.”

Parsi shook her head, her thick braid of hair swishing from side to side with the movement. “Impossible. The family before you has taken all but one of my rooms, and it contains but a single bed within.”

Jade paused again as she absorbed this information. Not an insurmountable problem in and of itself; the party often doubled—or even tripled—up on accommodations during their travels, and she’d shared rooms with nearly every one of her companions at one time or another.

_Nearly_. That she was currently stranded with the sole exception to this practice _was_ possibly going to be a problem—on his part, anyway. But given the alternative of trekking through this downpour to a soggy campsite, she was certain he could be made to see reason, regardless of whatever knightly nonsense he tried to throw at her.

“We’ll take it,” she told the interim innkeeper, mentally determining the supplies needed to make a floor pallet large enough to fit a man who defied normal-sized bedding. “If I could just have a few extra blankets and a pillow, that would be—”

“I am hoping you understand that this is a respectable establishment, yes?” Parsi interrupted, glaring beadily at Jade.

The princess blinked at her. “I’m sorry?”

“There is no tolerance for any funny business here, I think so.” The innkeeper placed her hands on the desk and leaned forward ominously. Despite having at least a foot on the woman, Jade had to stop herself from instinctively shrinking back.

“Matri does whatever she thinks is best, of course,” Parsi continued, “but when _I_ am in charge, there is to be no sharing of rooms between unmarried adults. _No_ exceptions.”

Jade stared, mouth gaping open slightly. In all her years of travel with Rab, she couldn’t recall _ever_ coming across a demand like this before. Granted, most people had assumed him to be her father or grandfather, so perhaps it simply hadn’t come up; but even so, she found herself entirely taken aback by this unexpected prohibition.

A loud clap of thunder shook the walls of the inn. Jade glanced past the balcony at the sheets of rain pounding down outside and knew that it would take half the night to dry their clothes off once they reached the campsite. Moreover, Erik tended to carry the tents in his pack, so they’d be forced to sleep out in the open—something she’d promised herself never to put up with again if she someday gained the means to avoid it.

It took a few moments for her to realize that the loud thumping behind her was not more thunder, but rather the sound of familiar heavy steps on the staircase. She turned in time to see Hendrik reach the landing of the second floor, the crate of equipment still in his arms.

“Is _this_ your companion?” the innkeeper asked suspiciously as Hendrik joined them at the desk. He placed the crate on the floor and glanced at the woman before giving Jade a questioning look, presumably wondering what was taking so long.

She had a split-second to make a decision. The face of the little girl flashed in her mind, and Jade knew at once—for good or ill—how she might overcome this unforeseen obstacle. It wasn’t a difficult choice, in the end; not with the life she’d lived to get here.

“Yes,” Jade said, grabbing onto one of Hendrik’s massive arms in what she hoped was a convincingly affectionate grasp. “This...is my husband.”

The bicep underneath her hand flexed as Hendrik instantly went rigid at her words. She ignored him, pasting on a smile as she focused her attention on the older woman.

“Married, are you?” Parsi squinted as she sized Hendrik up, her gaze dropping steeply as it moved back to Jade.

“Oh, yes—quite happily,” the princess assured the innkeeper. Her knuckles whitened as her fingers dug into the muscles of his arm in a silent warning not to interfere. “We’re actually newlyweds, you see.”

Despite her efforts, she saw a stupefied Hendrik open his mouth to say... _something_ , probably entirely incoherent and completely disastrous for their chances at getting a room that night. Jade very casually shifted her leg out of sight from the woman behind the desk, and stomped on his foot with the heel of her boot. He doubled over at once with a muffled cry.

“What is the matter with you, sir?” Parsi asked, suspicion flaring up again.

“Forgive me,” he gasped, clutching his foot with a grimace. “I find myself...struck by sudden injury...”

Jade leapt on this excuse like it was a stubborn monster at critical health. “Oh, darling, that’s awful,” she cooed, hands lightly stroking his shoulders in spurious sympathy. In some distant place at the back of her mind, she hummed with satisfaction at the firmness she felt there.

She turned to the innkeeper again and adopted her most beseechingly sweet tone. “Do you think we could have that room? It’s been a tiring day, and he really shouldn’t be on his feet much longer.”

Parsi’s expression remained wary, but she grudgingly accepted Jade’s coin and grabbed the single key hanging on the wall. Before she handed it over, however, she paused.

“When you first came, you asked me for _two_ rooms, yes?” she said with narrowed eyes. “A strange request for a married couple, I think so.”

Jade hadn’t lived through years of Rab’s elaborate ruses and disguises for nothing. “He snores,” she explained without skipping a beat, offering a rueful smile to the older woman. “The most dreadful sound you’ve ever heard. I like to have somewhere else to go if I can’t sleep through it.”

To her relief, Parsi nodded, finally relaxing the slightest fraction. “Ah, so did my own husband, may his soul rest with Yggdrasil. I did get used to it, in time.”

She then offered the key to Jade, and the princess forced herself to accept it calmly rather than snatching it from the woman’s hand before she could change her mind. Hendrik had by that point recovered enough to be able to mostly stand up straight again. He still looked rather dumbfounded, however, and it took a few discreet jabs of her finger into his side before he snapped out of his daze. He manfully picked the crate back up from the floor and hobbled after her as they went across the hall to their room.

Jade had only a moment to take in the minimal furnishings and white-linened bed before the door clicked shut behind them and Hendrik heroically retrieved his capability for speech.

“P-Princess Jade,” he choked out, his face turning an intriguing shade of crimson as he dumped the crate into a nearby corner and then rounded on her. “What in the _heavens_ do you mean by all this?”

Rather than answer that question right away, she glanced down at the injured foot he was still favouring. “Heal yourself, Hendrik,” she told him as she walked over to the bedside table and pulled her satchel and claws off her belt. “I’m sorry about that, by the way—it was all I could think of in the moment.”

His wild eyes never left her face as he lifted his hands and a bright flash of light filled the room. She heard his small sigh of relief before he straightened back up to his full—and significant—height.

“Princess—” he implored again, chest heaving and fists clenched at his sides.

“This was the only room left, and the innkeeper’s sister-in-law apparently has a very strict sense of propriety,” Jade explained as she rifled through her pack for her comb. “I had to do _something_.”

“And so, you...you made claim that we were _married?_ ” Hendrik asked in disbelief. His brow was so impossibly furrowed that she felt a slight concern about his chances of premature wrinkling.

“It was either that, or us heading out in the pouring rain to the campsite. I, for one, would like to avoid that if at all possible.” She tried to muster up her most businesslike tone, hoping to sway him to her side with unassailable logic; never let it be said that a princess could not be as vulnerable to foolish optimism as the next person.

“Then _I_ will journey to the campsite,” Hendrik declared in a burst of chivalric zeal. “Better that by far than to maintain a farce so dishonorable to us both.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Hendrik,” she sighed, finally turning back to him. “I’m not sending you out into the Champs Sauvage alone at night.”

“Yet you expect me to share bedchambers with the Princess of Heliodor? As well as allege her to be my—my—my _wife?”_ He stumbled over this last part, as if his lips and tongue were fundamentally incapable of expressing such an outrageous concept.

Jade arched an eyebrow at him. “Haven’t you been sharing rooms with all of us for months now?”

“Yes, with Sylvando, or the Luminary!” he sputtered. “ _Certainly_ not with the only daughter of my sworn liege!”

He somehow seemed to be taking this even more poorly than she’d feared. “It’s a _room_ , Hendrik,” she said patiently, one hand on her hip. “I’ll ask for extra blankets and you can sleep on the floor. No one’s going to force you to climb into bed with your princess.”

She paused a moment, then addressed what was likely the _far_ more upsetting aspect for him: “As for the other...surely a knight of the realm is allowed to bend the truth a little for a chance at a warm, dry night’s sleep?”

It wasn’t that she had no sympathy or understanding of his plight. Hendrik’s towering nobility and strict sense of decorum was one of those immutable facts of life, like the sun rising in the east, or the irresistible urge everyone sometimes got to cuddle a slime despite knowing they really, _really_ probably shouldn’t. He had, to his credit, relaxed at least _some_ of his strict principles in recent months, thanks to the influence of their friends; but a deception of this magnitude was clearly a test beyond anything he could ever have conceived of.

Jade watched as Hendrik slowly slumped against the door and covered his face with one trembling hand. “Princess, if this is yet another of your attempts to provoke me...”

“It’s not,” she assured him. “I just don’t want either of us to have to go out in _that_.” A clap of thunder boomed in impeccable punctuation to her words.

A long breath went out of him and his throat bobbed in a hard swallow. “I...do not know what _possible_ defence I could muster if the king were to hear of this,” Hendrik said weakly, half-hidden face contorted into a pained expression.

She instinctively knew that he was relenting, and a whisper of relief wound its way through her. “It’s one night, Hendrik—no one ever has to know. I’ll even swear to that, if you’ll accept the word of a princess instead of a knight.”

Hendrik huffed a humourless laugh and his hand dropped to his side once more. “Perhaps all the more for it,” he responded wearily. “I have been given reason to question the word of knights, of late.”

He then straightened and set his shoulders back. “Very well,” he said in a stronger tone. “I must yet raise the strongest of objections to this ruse, but I will nevertheless follow your lead, Your Highness.”

Jade smiled and impulsively stepped forward to lay a hand on his arm. “Thank you, Hendrik,” she said earnestly, looking up into his blue-green eyes. “I’m grateful for that—truly.”

Those eyes went wide for a moment, her gesture apparently having startled him. He awkwardly coughed into one fist. “Think nothing of it, Princess.”

His use of her title suddenly gave her pause. Sixteen years of anonymity had so far removed her from noble life that it had been strange, at first, to reunite with someone so relentlessly proper. Now, she was well used to it—easier by far to adjust than to ever expect _Hendrik_ to drop formality—but there was no question it might cause complications in their current predicament.

She withdrew her hand and pursed her lips as she considered him. His eyebrows once more pushed together at her intent gaze.

“It’s probably best you forget about the ‘Princesses’ and ‘Your Highnesses’ when we go down for supper,” she decided. “I’d rather not blow our cover and get kicked out to the campsite after all.”

Hendrik nodded reluctantly. “There is wisdom in what you say. We would be well served by inconspicuousness in general. It remains unclear how long our stay will prove to be, and our vulnerability in this situation causes me some concern.”

Jade smiled up at him. “I’m not sure how _you_ could possibly avoid being recognized, Sir Hendrik, but that’s a good point.”

“Do not underestimate your own ability to attract attention wherever you go,” he replied, frowning as he was apparently caught up in some thought.

A mixture of surprise and amusement coursed through her. “Why, Hendrik,” she said lightly.

He suddenly seemed to realize what he’d said and wide eyes snapped back to hers. “That is—I meant no offence, Princess,” he stammered.

“None taken.” She reached around him for the doorknob and he dutifully moved out of her way. “Now, shall we eat? I’m absolutely starving.”

 

* * *

 

The taproom had cleared out somewhat when they finally sat at one of the tables and flagged down a serving girl. The meal that was soon brought out smelled so delicious that Jade’s mouth was watering before she even picked up her fork. It seemed likely to her that supper would be a quick affair, probably followed by an early bedtime.

What she hadn’t anticipated, however, was the general chattiness of serving girls the world over, once given a particularly juicy bit of news to chew over.

“So, I am told that you are newlyweds, yes?” came an eager voice from behind Jade’s elbow.

Across the table, Hendrik visibly stiffened in his seat. His large frame looked quite comical on the rickety chair, and she had been trying to hide a smile for some minutes as she watched him on that precarious perch.

The princess turned to the server, a young woman about her age with shockingly red hair. “That’s right,” she told the girl. After another glance at the uncomfortable Hendrik, a sudden fit of mischief prompted her to elaborate: “We’re actually on our honeymoon.”

“Ah!” The server took this as invitation to scurry forward and plant herself beside the table, directly in the middle of the two ostensible lovebirds. “A beautiful place you have chosen to come to, I think so. We have always been a very popular destination for honeymooners, despite our recent troubles.”

Seeing as Hendrik was preoccupied with chewing the same mouthful of food he’d been labouring over for the past few minutes, she turned her attention to Jade instead. “When did you get married?”

“Very, _very_ recently,” Jade said demurely. “It was rather a spur of the moment decision, actually—but it felt right for us.”

“A sentiment I hear many times these days!” the girl nodded vigorously. “The World Tree’s fall has changed much. Where is the sense in waiting or denying our wishes any longer, yes?”

She had an almost starry look in her eyes as she clasped her hands to her cheek. “Especially such feelings as strong as love and matrimony. Ah, you are very lucky to have found each other, I think so!”

Jade saw Hendrik briefly squeeze his eyes shut in pain, and she _almost_ felt sorry for him. Which, of course, in no way prevented her from flashing him an exaggeratedly sweet smile and responding: “I couldn’t agree more. Don’t you think so, darling?”

He choked slightly as he hastily swallowed his food, and was forced to thump his chest several times before he managed to reply. “Er—I—that is—yes, I must certainly concur, Prin—”

She kicked him under the table—hard.

“—beloved,” he finished in a coughing gasp. His near lapse went unnoticed by the serving girl, who was instead entirely overcome by his gallantry and practically swooned where she stood.

Fortunately—and unfortunately—for Hendrik, she was called away by another table right after, giving Jade a chance to pounce on this new revelation.

“Your pet name of choice is ‘beloved’?” she asked delightedly. “How charmingly old-fashioned of you, Hendrik.”

“This is not an area in which I can claim much expertise,” he protested, a flush creeping up his neck.

“I suppose it _does_ answer the question of what types of novels you read by the campfire,” she continued with some show of thoughtfulness. “Did Serena lend you one of hers?”

She’d meant it as a joke, but his face was quite serious as he answered. “I had already accepted her generous offer before I realized its genre,” he said stiffly, somehow even redder now. “Courtesy demanded that I finish, and so—”

Jade, in her infinite graciousness (and strong desire to return to her meal), decided to grant mercy to the blushing Hendrik and dropped the subject. She knew it wasn’t really fair that she was finding herself enormously entertained by the same circumstance that caused him so much discomfort; but at the same time, it was honestly a relief to be able to live in a simple moment like this, unburdened for a short while by the cares that had dogged them all since Yggdrasil. Their friends were out there somewhere—safe and sound, she _had_ to believe—and they were here, listening to the storm raging on outside of the warm, comfortable taproom.

She suddenly felt glad that it was Hendrik she was with now, above anyone else. She offered him a small smile as they continued eating, no hint of mischief this time, and his gaze seemed almost to soften as he looked at her.

The serving girl came back a few minutes later, and her eagerness to continue the previous conversation was equal only to Hendrik’s poorly-concealed dismay.

“So, how did you two meet?” she asked with great interest, stopping just short of pulling up a chair and cupping her chin in both hands.

This question gave Jade pause. It wasn’t exactly a _secret_ who their companions were, but it seemed best not to spread the word any further than necessary. That the young woman hadn’t already recognized the most famous knight in the world spoke well of her general obliviousness.

“Oh, the usual sort of way,” Jade answered vaguely, gesturing with her fork. “We’ve both travelled extensively, and happened to run into each other. One thing led to another, and...here we are!”

“And did it take long for love to blossom? It surely must not have, yes?” was the breathless follow-up.

Hendrik mouth was pressed into such a thin line of distress that Jade was once again struck by the irresistible urge to tease him—just a little.

“With a man of such bravery and unrivalled nobility, I should hardly think so,” she told the girl. She leaned in closer then, voice dropping to a low, confidential tone. “And, well—you’ve gotten a good look at him, haven’t you? It certainly didn’t take much to convince _me_.”

Across from her, Hendrik choked on the drink he’d unwisely chosen as a distraction. This brought the young woman’s attention back to him, and she turned eagerly.

“And you, sir?” the server asked earnestly. “With a wife so beautiful, I am certain it was love at first sight!”

Jade tried very hard to conceal her interest in his response as she glanced back at him. Rather than the red-faced stammering she’d expected, Hendrik was oddly pensive as he frowned down at his half-finished plate of food.

“When we...first met, some months ago,” he said slowly, “I must shamefully confess to having gravely misjudged her character. Truthfully, we did not part on the best of terms.”

He took a deep breath and then looked up at Jade with a serious gaze. “Over time, however, I began to understand the strength of her convictions, and realized the full extent of her bravery and resolve. I have had much to make amends for, and can only pray that she forgives the enormity of my actions at the start of our acquaintance.”

Jade felt a fluttering warmth in her stomach as Hendrik’s eyes stayed locked on hers. Perhaps it had been too long since her last visit to Phnom Nonh; the spiciness of the food certainly seemed to be having an unusual effect on her tonight.

A sudden laugh from the serving girl broke the spell. “Of course she has forgiven you, sir!” the woman admonished Hendrik. “After all, you are now married, I think so!”

He mumbled something non-committal and stared down at his food again. Jade swallowed reflexively as her fork hovered over her own plate. She wasn’t sure why, but she almost wished he _had_ given the awkward, embarrassed answer she’d counted on. The predictable answer; the safe one.

Almost, but not quite.

The serving girl was called away once more, and Jade wasn’t sorry to see her go. She and Hendrik finished their meal in silence and then rose to leave. Before they got to the stairs, the young woman caught up with them to say farewell.

“Thank you for your patronage, and congratulations!” she said, beaming at them. A frown suddenly crossed her face, and she squinted at Hendrik.

“Forgive me, sir,” the girl said to him, “but you remind me greatly of the famous knight, Sir Hendrik of Heliodor. Is he perhaps a relative of yours?”

A ghost of a smile crossed Jade’s face as she watched Hendrik struggle with his answer.

“There is...some degree of relation, yes,” he finally managed, rubbing at the back of his neck like some irritating knot was stuck there.

“Ah! I thought so!” The serving girl winked at Jade. “Now _there_ would be a most splendid husband, yes?”

“I’d certainly say so,” Jade agreed. “But I’ve heard he can’t walk ten steps without beautiful ladies throwing themselves at his feet, so I fear there’d be no chance for ordinary women like us.”

Beside her, Hendrik sighed the sigh of a man weary of the world and its trials, and she embraced all the resulting fondness that flowed through her.

 

* * *

 

Jade made a stop at the front desk to request extra linens and a pillow, under the guise of Hendrik’s needing further coverage thanks to his large size. Parsi reluctantly obliged her—though not without making it well known how egregious this interruption from her very serious examination of her nails was.

Bedding in hand, Jade opened the door to their room and discovered Hendrik standing very uncomfortably in the centre of it, his hands nervously flexing as he stared at the bed.

“Hendrik,” she said, and his head jerked up. He blinked at her for a moment, as if startled from some distracting thought, and then his eyes dropped to the bundle she carried.

“Ah,” he replied, quickly stepping forward to relieve her of her burden. “I thank you, Your—” He abruptly cut himself off, a look of such helpless confusion on his face that she immediately regretted all her relentless teasing during supper.

“It’s all right when we’re alone,” she told him with a small smile. “And you can just use my name, otherwise—there’s no need for any...endearments.”

“The option had not occurred to me at the time,” he admitted, one weary hand at his temple.

“Well, hopefully it won’t matter for much longer. Go ahead and make your bed, Hendrik.” Jade walked over to the side table and picked up her comb even as she tugged at the ribbon holding up her wealth of hair. She sat on the bed with a _whump_ and began pulling the comb through her dark locks.

“I don’t know how I got to be so tired,” she said with a yawn. “Something about storms, I think.”

To her surprise, she noticed that Hendrik hadn’t moved. He was looking at her oddly instead, his eyes fixed on her face.

“What is it?” she asked him curiously, her hand slowing in its motion.

He shook his head; less in response, she suspected, and more as a way to clear his mind from whatever had struck him.

“It is of no matter, Princess,” he said quietly. He turned from her to place the linens on the floor—as far away from the bed as he could logistically manage, she noted with amusement.

“If you’re having doubts about the comfort of your night’s sleep, we could always trade,” she suggested.

A scandalized noise came out of his mouth as he wheeled toward her again. “On my honour as a knight, I could _never_ in good conscience allow a lady to take the floor while I...” His mouth snapped shut at the sight of her face, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “Yet more provocation, Princess?”

“It’s my one true failing,” she readily acknowledged. If he had a reply to this, he evidently chose not to share it.

While Hendrik knelt on the floor and began laying out blankets, Jade finished with her hair and started undoing the laces of her boots with nimble fingers. Her nightly rituals were automatic to her, and she absently stripped off her gloves and arm guards while listening to the sound of rain lashing the closed shutters. The candle on the bedside table flickered with an unseen breath of air, casting dancing shadows on the walls.

She had just turned her attention to the belt of her skirt when Hendrik finished with his rather neat pallet—doubtless the result of years of practice on the field—and looked up at her.

“This will prove adequate for the—” he started to say, before again cutting himself off. His eyes locked at once on her fingers and he sucked in a sharp breath. Even in the darkness, she could see hectic spots of colour on his face and neck.

Jade wanted to be amused, but was somehow slightly breathless instead. Her fingers had frozen in twitching stillness on her belt clasp, and she could not determine any mechanism to get them moving again.

Hendrik abruptly scrambled to his feet. “I will wait outside the room until you are abed,” he declared hoarsely, already walking with decisive steps to the door.

“Wait!” she commanded him. He paused in the act of reaching for the doorknob, head tilting toward her.

“What will the innkeeper think if you have to leave the room while I undress?” she pointed out, thoroughly bewildered at the slight tremor in her own voice. “Just...face the wall while I get my skirt and halter off.”

She could tell he wished to object, but there was no denying the logic of her words. The hand that hovered by the doorknob clenched into a tight fist, and Hendrik gave a curt nod of assent without looking at her. He turned on his heel and strode over to the other end of the room, his broad back very deliberately facing her.

Jade’s fingers felt strangely numb as she undid the clasps at her waist and neck and loosened the laces of her halter. She pulled the leather garments off and folded them neatly, depositing them next to her other clothing underneath the table.

When she pulled back the covers of the bed, she paused for a moment, struck by a wild urge to ask him to turn around _before_ she slipped inside. For a man who had reacted so strongly to the sight of her with her hair down or unclasping her belt, she suddenly burned with the desire to know what he’d do if he saw her in only tank top and shorts.

_I suppose even fine, upstanding knights of the realm need a cheap thrill every now and again, eh?_

She shook her head and pushed the mad idea back down. The sheets felt pleasantly cool as she got into the bed and settled herself in the middle of it. The pillow was a tad on the firm side, but she’d managed to sleep well on _rocks_ in her time, so had no real complaints. After a brief consideration, she rolled over to face the opposite wall from Hendrik, not wanting him to feel more uncomfortable than he already was. Not her, of course—it was definitely for his sake.

“I’m done,” she said, voice muffled slightly by the pillow.

There was a quiet rustle as he presumably turned from the wall again. Jade’s ears focused equally on the distant rumbling of thunder as the sound of Hendrik’s preparing himself for sleep. Unable to watch, she instead tried to deduce his actions as she listened, thoroughly engrossed by this rare insight into his own nighttime rituals. She heard the clunk of his scabbard as he laid it on the wooden floor, and a faint clinking as he removed his belt and harness. The gentle scraping of leather must be his boots, she decided; a suspicion confirmed when his much lighter footsteps then padded over to the table.

“Shall I extinguish the candle, Princess?” he asked, barely above a whisper.

“Of course,” she answered, nestling further underneath her blankets.

A puff sounded in the air and the room plunged into darkness. The footsteps moved away again, and there was the stirring of fabric as Hendrik lay down in the pallet and settled himself. All was then silent for a time.

“Good night, Hendrik,” Jade said into the darkness.

“Sleep well, Princess,” came his voice from across the room.

She closed her eyes. There was something soothing about the sound of rain’s steady patter while she lay curled up in a warm, dry bed. She let it lull her racing heartbeat to steadiness once more, and then soon after drifted off into slumber.

 

* * *

 

It was one of life’s injustices that a waking world of nightmare could follow its weary occupants into the land of sleep, denying them any chance for rest or respite. Yggdrasil’s fall had spawned many such restless nights for the people of Erdrea, most of them plagued by dreams of fire and ash, of screams and suffering, of vicious monsters and hopeless battles.

Jade dreamt of gold.

In this, she had the company of Erik’s sister and the good people of Sniflheim. But where their gilded nightmares loomed frozen and still all around them, hers were filled with the clink of coin and the glare of shimmering lights.

The images were scattered and disorienting as they came to her, tinged over with a reddish haze. She was a monster—no, she was _creating_ monsters—no, there were no monsters at all, just revelry and mindless hedonism. She no longer had any purpose or desire but that of her doting master, and she performed her role with enthusiasm, eager to retain his favour. The raucous music of the casino flooded her mind, and she shivered at the feel of gold slipping through her fingers, hour after endless hour.

But it wasn’t the captivity or the possession, or even her awful part in luring innocent people to their doom, that plagued her sleep those nights; it was that, in some tiny part in the back of her mind, she’d been _relieved_ to let go. She had spent so long searching, fighting, _enduring_ —chasing after a future that only seemed to get further away the harder she tried. What she’d felt during that delirious time had not been happiness, but it had been a very near thing, and so _easy_ to grasp in comparison. Would it really have been so bad, to stay? Could anyone truly have faulted her?

On some level, Jade knew that she was not trapped in a blaring, gaudy casino, but asleep in a quiet inn surrounded by high cliffs. But she was too caught up in the unsettling mixture of dream and memory, in too deep to rouse herself and end her own torment. She tossed and turned in the sheets, whimpering as the visions assaulted her relentlessly.

A voice intruded from very far away, calling her by a title that had long ago ceased to have any meaning for her, and she ignored it as she continued her restless thrashing. But then the voice said her name instead, this time accompanied by gentle fingers brushing back the sweat-damp hair from her face before drifting featherlight to her shoulder.

Somehow, it was enough. Jade did not quite awaken, but she felt the calmness of that presence infuse her and tug her out of the nightmare’s grasp. Gradually she settled down, her breathing slowing and her limbs relaxing into the mattress.

Right on the cusp of deeper sleep, the touch at her shoulder started to move away. She instinctively clung to it, pulling it even closer as she rolled over and insistently brought it along with her. A sudden heavy weight on the bed beside her was the last thing she was aware of before blackness came over her once more.


	2. Repression is the Better Part of Valour

_Warmth_. That was Jade’s first impression when she awoke the next morning: an engulfing heat that blanketed her more thoroughly than any bedding she’d ever used. It was even _too_ warm, almost—she felt a trickle of sweat winding its way down her collarbone and dipping below the edge of her tank top.

Her second impression was of the steady sound of rain outside, still tapping against the wooden shutters of the room’s window. The storm seemed to continue unabated despite the downpour the previous night, in what likely boded ill for the possibility of...something she could not quite remember yet.

And her _third_ impression—in a belated absurdity that she could only attribute to its being so unusual that her mind simply _couldn’t_ register it straight away—was that someone was in the bed with her. Not only in the bed, but curled around her from behind, long arms and legs tangled in the sheets as they clasped her loosely.

Jade’s eyes snapped open. The sight of the dim room came into focus at once, but still she found herself enveloped by strong limbs and a bulky torso; that could probably safely eliminate it as a dream, then. She craned her neck slightly to peek at one of the arms around her and verified the hideous mustard colour of the sleeve adorning it. Not that she’d really needed confirmation of exactly _whose_ tree-trunk-adjacent arms were holding her in their slack grip.

Hendrik was in bed with her. Hendrik was currently wrapped _entirely_ _around_ _her_ , for all the world as if he was trying to shield her from an incoming Frizz with his enormous frame.

As her pulse quickened and her breathing grew shallow, Jade considered her situation. It was obvious that he was still asleep, his slow and steady breathing tickling the hair just behind her left ear; but he’d always been a light sleeper and was often the first one up at sunrise when they stayed at a campsite, so was unlikely to remain in that state for much longer. It was also obvious that he had somehow been compelled there against his will during the night, as there was no force on Erdrea that would inspire Sir Hendrik to join a lady in her bed, let alone the princess of his sworn kingdom. She had vague memories of a nightmare, but couldn’t wrangle them into coherence.

He shifted behind her and Jade unconsciously held her breath, waiting to see if he was stirring. She let it out in a quiet huff when he settled back down, and immediately turned her mind to strategy.

(Most of her mind, at any rate; there was a stubborn part of it that was deeply, _deeply_ satisfied with her current predicament, but she knew that the very last thing she needed right now was to listen to it.)

She absolutely had to get away. If Hendrik woke up and discovered them like this, there was a very real possibility he would immediately fall upon his sword, and good luck explaining _that_ to the innkeeper.

Jade took in a deep breath to steel herself and then started to shift, agonizingly slowly, toward the edge of the bed. Her hip dug into the mattress beneath her as she slid inch by inch toward her goal. The fabric of Hendrik’s sleeve scraped along her arm, sending light shivers down her spine.

It was when she had only a hand’s span left before freedom that Hendrik unconsciously seemed to realize she was escaping, and apparently took great offense at the idea. His fumbling hands reached out and pulled her back against his chest with a vise-like grip. The arm closest to the mattress curled around her waist from below, and the one higher rested along her torso, blocking any further movement forward. Just for extra insurance, his leg also swung across the both of hers, well and truly trapping her in place.

Even more significant than all of that, however, was the fact that her backside was now firmly pressed up against his front in a way that revealed a particular... _enthusiasm_ for their new position—an enthusiasm that was growing ever more insistent as the seconds went by.

Jade had another very sudden, very wild thought about _tree trunks_.

That stubborn part in the back of her mind rushed to the forefront as Hendrik twitched and held her even tighter. She felt lightheaded, her heart hammering in her ears and her breath coming in short gasps—at least right up until he leaned forward and nuzzled at her ear, and she entirely _forgot_ how to fill her lungs with air.

The situation was rapidly spiralling out of control. Jade was no stranger to breaking the grip of any number of fearsome monsters, so she could certainly do the same with one excitable, sleeping knight. She would be forced to wake him in the process, but _that_ was a bridge she’d cross when she got there. For now, escape was the main goal.

But she paused first, unable to resist closing her eyes and taking in a shuddering breath as she revelled in the achingly wonderful heat all around her. That, unfortunately, turned out to be her downfall: disturbed by her deep breathing, Hendrik shifted against her once more. His hand along her front fumbled up to cup one breast even as his hips slowly rocked into her from behind.

Jade could not help the startled moan that burst from her lips as a rush of heat coursed down through her stomach to her core. Her own hips instinctively moved backward to press into him, and his fingers gently squeezed her breast in return. She was impossibly, _ridiculously_ turned on, and every idea of leaving had fled from her scattered mind.

His breath panted hotly into her ear as he thrust against her again, and sparks exploded in her vision. “Hendrik,” she gasped, a little too loudly.

She could feel the instant he awoke, the rest of his body suddenly stiffening to match his lower region. There was a ragged puff of air against her hair as he lay stock still for one eternal moment, their bodies pressed tightly together.

Then he lurched backward, and Jade shivered as the cool air of the room hit her all at once. She twisted around in the bed just in time to see him topple over the edge of it in his haste to get away, crashing into the side table and knocking it over. He scrambled up from the floor and backed all the way up to the far wall, his hands pushing against it as if trying to rearrange the very structure of the building in order to increase the distance between them. His dishevelled hair fell in front of eyes as wide as saucers, and his chest heaved underneath his rumpled tunic.

Jade slowly sat up on the mattress, sure that she should say _something_ , but much _less_ sure what that should possibly be. ‘It was mostly my fault’ would fall on deaf ears; ‘It was just a dream’ would doubtless ring false; and ‘Don’t worry, I was actually rather enjoying myself’ was perhaps the least helpful option of all.

“P-Princess,” Hendrik rasped, in a tone she had never heard from him before. “I...You...” He seemed equally at a loss to speak, his mouth gaping open and closed like a fish. The inevitable flush was spreading up his neck, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before it took over his entire face.

To her shock, he wasn’t the _only_ one battling that particular embarrassment. Jade was fairly certain she hadn’t blushed since she was fifteen years old, but she could feel the telltale heat creeping across her skin all the same. She brushed her bangs back distractedly, willing her usual steady composure to return just when she needed it most.

Across the room, Hendrik’s noble instincts finally reasserted themselves. He practically collapsed to one knee before her, head bowed and a shaking fist pressed to his heart.

“Princess Jade,” he said with a tremor in his voice. “I can...in no way offer any defence of my deplorable actions...” A shuddering breath went out of him. “I will remove myself from your presence forthwith and return to the Last Bastion. You have...my deepest assurances that the king will be fully informed as to my transgressions, and I...I vow to submit myself entirely to his mercy.”

Jade could not possibly think of anything she wanted less than for her father to hear of this—or _any_ of what had happened since their arrival at Phnom Nonh, for that matter. Ignoring the flush still doggedly clinging to her neck, she shuffled forward on the bed and swung her bare feet over the edge, dropping to the floor with a muffled thud.

“Hendrik,” she said, one hand on her hip. When he didn’t move, she frowned and tried again. “ _Hendrik_.”

His head slowly rose and he reluctantly met her eyes, his gaze haunted. Stray locks of hair half-concealed his face and she resisted the sudden urge to tuck them back behind his ears.

“If I wanted you to be punished for your ‘transgressions’, I’d do it myself,” she told him firmly. “There’s no need for such knightly nonsense.” Another recollection threatened to intrude upon the moment, but she firmly pushed it out of mind; considering recent events, it seemed _profoundly_ unhelpful at present.

“Princess...” he replied weakly, swallowing hard.

“Here’s what we’ll do,” Jade decided, barreling past his protests, real or imagined. “We’re going to get dressed, go downstairs for breakfast, check if the Zoom pathways are back up, and forget that any of this ever happened.”

His gaze dropped as he vigorously shook his head. “Your Highness, I cannot possibly—”

“You _can_.” She leaned over him in looming insistence until he was forced to look up at her again. “I don’t recall a lot of last night, but this was at least as much my fault as it was yours. Let’s just consider ourselves even, hm?”

Hendrik looked aghast at the idea of their _ever_ coming up equal in any aspect of their relationship, but she refused to relent—or even move—until she finally got a hesitant nod out of him. Some of the tension in her face relaxed then, and she gestured for him to rise as she stepped back.

“Why don’t you go down first?” she suggested, turning toward the upturned table to give him time to regain his composure. “I’ll join you when I’m ready.”

“Very...very well,” he said eventually. She heard him tug on his boots and buckle his belts and sword while she straightened the side table and replaced the fallen candle and its holder. He seemed to pause at the doorway before he left, and she tensed, wary of last-minute objections or apologies; but then she heard the turn of the doorknob and the soft click of the door as he closed it after himself.

Jade let out a breath and dropped to the bed on suddenly wobbly legs. She turned and brushed a light hand over the sheets, not sure if she was imagining the warmth she still felt there. Absently, she wondered if the same serving girl was on breakfast duty down in the taproom, and what further questions she might have for them this time.

Suddenly, their unexpected stay in Phnom Nonh seemed to have gotten _much_ more complicated.

 

* * *

 

Hendrik was already halfway through his meal when Jade finally made her way downstairs. A glance from the lobby balcony had shown that the rain seemed somewhat lighter than the previous day, but she could still hear thunder booming in the distance, difficult to pinpoint as it echoed through the high-cliffed town.

She sat at the table and flagged down the server—thankfully _not_ the same one as before—with an order for her own breakfast. Then, she turned her attention to the man across from her with an appraising eye. He was concentrating on his food like it contained plans for a decisive strategy that would win a hopeless war. He ate mechanically, unable to look up at her after that first, red-faced nod when she’d arrived.

It was about what she’d expected, honestly. Jade idly drummed her fingers on the table as she waited for her meal to arrive.

“It’s still raining,” she remarked, not especially optimistic about her chances of starting an actual conversation.

“Indeed,” he replied with a small cough, focusing intently on his knife.

“We’ll have to find someone who can check about the Zoom pathways,” she continued after a moment’s pause.

“Of course,” came the distracted reply.

Her eyes narrowed. “Not very busy this time of day, is it?”

“Certainly.”

“At any rate, I was thinking about abdicating the throne and becoming a travelling dancer after all this is over.”

“As you say.”

Jade sighed and leaned back in her seat, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. The serving girl brought out her breakfast just as Hendrik gulped down the last of his and then hastily rose from the table, his chair scraping along the floor behind him.

“If you will excuse me, there are certain matters I must attend to, Your—” His gaze suddenly jerked over to the server and he cleared his throat. “That is, Pr—belo—Ja—”

After what looked to be a monumental struggle, he finally seemed to give up. With a nod that stopped only inches short of becoming a bow, Hendrik turned and stalked over to the staircase with both hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“It must be very pleasant having _those_ arms around you every night, yes?” the server asked with a note of envy in her voice.

Jade nearly groaned aloud. The serving girls of Phnom Nonh certainly seemed to delight in sticking their noses into other people’s supposed marriages.

“It’s...something I’m still getting used to,” she answered honestly. Luckily this unenthusiastic response discouraged the girl from further questions, and she left Jade to her breakfast in peace.

She found herself poking at it a bit restlessly, preoccupied with her thoughts. The continuing storm made the likelihood of their friends’ return doubtful, and she wondered how they were doing. Knowing them—and especially Rab—they were probably taking advantage of the break to have a little vacation in the Hotto bathhouses. Hopefully no one was worried about her and Hendrik; they both generally knew how to avoid getting in over their heads, after all.

But it _did_ mean, of course, that they’d be forced to keep up this ruse for longer than she’d expected. What had brought her such teasing enjoyment last night now seemed only to have invited trouble. As much as she loved throwing Hendrik off his guard, she didn’t want it to be at the expense of their friendship or ability to work together. Perhaps he was right—maybe it _would_ be better if one of them stayed at the campsite instead of another night at the inn, if it came to that.

(Especially since the odds of Hendrik’s ever again voluntarily sleeping within a _mile_ of her bed seemed remote.)

Jade had just admitted defeat on clearing her half-full plate when there was a clamour on the stairs and the travelling family with its four noisy children swept into the taproom. The parents wrangled together several of the empty tables and attempted to corral everyone into sitting down—more from habit than any real expectation of success, apparently.

The little girl from the previous night spotted Jade and waved at her. She waved back, and the girl eagerly took this as an opportunity to escape her younger siblings for a few moments.

“Hello again,” Jade greeted her young friend when she hopped into the chair opposite hers. “Quite a storm last night, wasn’t it?”

“I _know_ ,” the girl groaned dramatically. “My little brother’s scared of thunder and I had to comfort him half the night. I can’t _wait_ until we can get out of here.”

“Did your parents mention anything about the Zoom pathways?” Jade asked, figuring she might as well gather some information while she was here.

“Father said it’s still not working quite right, so we’ll have to stay here until at least the afternoon.” She tilted her head curiously. “Are you stuck too?”

Jade nodded. “We’re waiting on friends to come pick us back up—hopefully soon.”

“Oh.” The girl paused and looked a little confused. “ _I_ heard you were on your honeymoon.”

“You heard...” Jade blinked in surprise. Was _everyone_ in this town so starved for gossip that the arrival of a pair of newlyweds was the most exciting news in weeks? With her luck, even the mayor had been informed by now.

She cleared her throat and offered a smile to the girl. “Well—yes, of course we are. But only for a little while before we have to rejoin our companions for an...important job.”

“Oh! All right,” the girl said with a child’s automatic acceptance of the state of the world and its inhabitants. “Is that what your husband is talking to that pretty lady upstairs about?”

The smile faltered. “What lady?”

“The one with the bunny ears. She seemed to have something _really_ interesting to tell him, from what I saw.”

A great screeching sounded from the floor underneath Jade’s chair as she stood. “I’m afraid I have to go,” she apologized to the startled girl. “I hope you enjoy your breakfast.” And then without another glance she was walking over to the staircase in as nonchalant a hurry as one might manage if one wished to retain _any_ dignity at all.

She took the steps two at a time upstairs to the lobby. Parsi was absent from behind the desk, and indeed there seemed to be no one about at all; but then Jade heard voices coming from one of the balcony alcoves and moved closer.

A young woman she’d seen loitering around outside the inn the previous day was standing by the railing. Her outfit was cut low where it mattered and high where it _definitely_ mattered, and a pair of bunny ears was perched on her head. There was a coquettish smile upon her face as she spoke in persuasive tones to the tall man before her, who was saved only by the morning’s earlier events from the distinction of being caught in the least appropriate situation imaginable. Jade pulled back to the shadows a moment, watching the scene unfold before her.

“Ah, of course,” Hendrik was saying to the woman. “I believe my companion procured your assistance his last visit, did he not?”

“Well, he was just a boy,” the puff-puff girl practically purred. “There are also many _other_ services I can provide, yes?”

“I must confess to having some doubts as to the relevance of your skillset,” he replied dubiously, his brow furrowing.

“Then perhaps it would be best to give a demonstration? On the house, I think so.” The woman’s lips curved into a sultry smile as she leaned forward and gave Hendrik an excellent view of her ample cleavage. Her hand came up and brushed along his arm in what was, to Jade, a _very_ familiar move.

It wasn’t that she had a problem with the many hard-working women—and men—in Erdrea who chose to pursue more...service-oriented professions. Nor was she generally bothered by the bewildering succession of amorous hopefuls who showed great interest in gaining access to the mighty Sir Hendrik’s trouser laces. She was often the first to tease the knight when it happened, usually with Sylvando as her partner in crime.

But when Jade saw the redness creeping up Hendrik’s neck as he politely averted his gaze from the bunny girl’s exceptional assets, she suddenly very much _did_ have a problem. A burst of possessiveness curled hot and angry in her stomach at the sight of the woman’s hand lingering on Hendrik’s arm— _her_ arm, the one that had so recently been wrapped around her waist as if created for no greater purpose than that. Was it too much to expect that their ruse would grant a _single day’s_ reprieve from the endless flirtations? What kind of person would flagrantly ignore the sanctity of marriage like this? And what was Hendrik _thinking_ , going along with it?

She was moving almost before she was even aware of it. “Oh, _there_ you are, darling,” Jade exclaimed as she stepped out of the shadows and strode over to the alcove. Hendrik looked over at her in surprise as she immediately latched onto his free arm and subtly—but firmly—tugged him out of the other woman’s grasp.

“I’ve been looking all over for you,” she told him with a false smile. Her gaze turned to the puff-puff girl and her eyes narrowed. “Chatting with the locals, are you?”

The woman looked Jade up and down with pursed lips as she settled back on her heels and crossed her arms— _over_ her cleavage, the princess noted with satisfaction.

“Yes, this young lady was generously offering to help with my combat effectiveness,” Hendrik replied, a bit hesitantly. His eyes darted between the two women with confusion, as if sensing unspoken tension in the air but entirely unable to account for its source.

“Oh, how wonderful,” Jade said in a steely voice. “But I’m sure she must have many more customers to serve first. Isn’t that right?”

The puff-puff girl’s final assessment of the situation apparently came down on the side of self-preservation over economic benefit. “Ah, very correct, you are,” she acknowledged hurriedly. “I will leave you to your day, yes?”

Jade and Hendrik watched as the woman scampered off toward the staircase. When they were alone, Jade dropped his arm and turned to face him with both hands on her hips.

“Really, Hendrik,” she said testily. “Do you _want_ to blow our cover here? The innkeeper could have walked by at any moment!”

He frowned and adjusted his harness strap at the shoulder. “I fear I do not take your meaning, Princess.”

She almost rolled her eyes at his denseness. “How do you think it would look to see a supposedly newly-married man visiting a _puff-puff girl?_ I’d rather not have us _both_ be forced to sleep at the campsite if this storm keeps going.”

Hendrik’s hand froze on his harness as he looked at her incredulously. “A _puff-puff_ —no, she is employed in the cosmetics industry!” he insisted. “The Luminary himself visited her during our last trip! She gave him some assistance with his more charming attributes, I believe.”

“Yes, because he’s _sixteen years old_ ,” Jade hissed. “She was obviously trying for another angle with _you_.”

He stared at her a moment longer and then swallowed hard. “I _had_ thought her behaviour somewhat peculiar, but the idea of her offering...offering...” His eyes closed in a wince. “Truly, it did not occur to me.”

Jade sighed and rubbed at her forehead. “Honestly, Hendrik, you really _don’t_ know much about ladies, do you?”

It was out of her mouth before she remembered _when_ and _how_ she’d last expressed such a sentiment, the contempt dripping from her unnaturally echoing voice. Judging by the way his eyes snapped open and he jerked back slightly, she wasn’t alone in that recollection.

“I’m sorry,” she said at once. “I didn’t mean it like that, I was just..." Just what, she wasn’t sure. What she _was_ sure of was that she hated the suddenly wary look in his eyes, the distance that seemed to spring up between them whenever they strayed too close to those fogged-over memories.

His pause must only have been the length of a heartbeat, but it twisted her stomach into knots all the same. “You need never apologize to me, Your Highness,” he said quietly. “Consider the remark forgotten.”

With anyone else, she might have worried about double meanings or hidden resentments; but Jade had long ago learned that any time spent _not_ taking Hendrik at face value was a waste as well as a disservice. She nodded briefly, and he seemed to relax a bit.

Casting about for some change in topic, she remembered what she’d learned downstairs about the Zoom pathways. “It looks like we might be stuck here for a little while longer,” she told him. “Should we go into town and poke around a bit?”

“I will be guided by you, Princess,” Hendrik agreed. Though he’d fallen out of the habit in recent months—mostly at Jade’s strenuous insistence—he followed this remark with a respectful bow, perhaps unconsciously returning to old behaviours in an attempt to make some sense of the disarray his life had been thrown into.

Which was, quite naturally, the very same instant as Parsi rounded a corner of the lobby. The woman paused as she spotted them, and a frown began to crease her forehead at the sight of Hendrik’s genuflection.

Later, when given time to reflect, Jade realized that it had happened for several simultaneous reasons: as a surefire way to turn the bow into convincing proof of their ‘marriage’; as a consequence of the heated jealousy that had burst through her when the puff-puff girl had touched him; as an attempt to chase after that delicious feeling when his body had enveloped hers; as further apology for her cutting words, that put such hurtful distance in his eyes.

But in the moment itself, it felt only like a wild sort of madness that possessed her to grab Hendrik by the face with two firm hands and pull his mouth to hers.

She hadn’t thought he could go _more_ rigid than in her bed that morning, his arms around her as he awoke, but he was certainly giving it a fair shot. His breath sucked in sharply through his nose, and she knew that his eyes would be wide with astonishment if she looked. But she didn’t; she closed her own instead, and focused only on the surprising softness of his lips and the pleasant scratch of his beard against her chin.

The kiss lasted only a few seconds before she pulled away (not with reluctance; she _refused_ to admit it was with reluctance) and let her eyes drift back open. Her fingers remained on his jaw, twitching slightly with the urge to stroke the light stubble she felt there. She was cheated out of the sight of the flush spreading across his face this time: he was already blushing to the roots of his hair, and looked so wholly confounded that it seemed unlikely he’d be able to recover his composure for at least a few minutes—possibly upwards of an hour. Her lips curved into a slight smile at that, which only seemed to make him _more_ flummoxed as his eyes helplessly darted down, riveted by the sight.

A throat was cleared behind them. Jade started, having completely forgotten about the presence of anyone else in the room—along with other inessentials such as where she was, why she was there, or even the entire point of her impulsive action in the first place. Her hands slipped from Hendrik’s face as she turned to face the innkeeper.

Some of Parsi’s suspicion had dropped, but Jade noted with trepidation that anger had taken its place instead.

“I have been looking for you two, I think so,” she said with a glare. “I understand that you are on your honeymoon, but I will ask that you keep your... _antics_ under control in this establishment!”

Jade blinked at her. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re—”

Parsi’s scowl deepened. “Do not think I did not hear your knocking the furniture about this morning. If I have found any damage, I will have to charge you, yes?”

“Oh.” One quick glance at Hendrik showed him to be currently—and indefinitely, by the looks of it—incapable of speech, so Jade took it upon herself to answer. “We’ll be more careful,” she promised the irate innkeeper.

“See that you are.” With a sniff, Parsi turned to go—but then she paused, looking back at them with a narrowed gaze. “I heard him call you ‘princess’, before. A strange thing to say to one’s wife, I think so.”

Jade swallowed down the sudden urge to laugh hysterically. Really, it was only a few hours past dawn, and the day was already _this_ absurd? “It’s...sort of a pet name,” she managed.

Parsi stared at Hendrik for a moment and then shook her head. “The men these days, they are so old-fashioned,” she muttered before waddling off around the corner again.

When she was gone, all was quiet for a time, the rain thrumming a steady beat outside. Jade looked up at Hendrik. His wide eyes met hers at once, evidently too overcome for even the presence of mind to avoid her gaze.

“Well,” she said lightly. “Shall we head out into town?”

“As...as you wish,” he replied in a strangled tone.

 

* * *

 

To Jade’s relief, Hendrik appeared to have been so overwhelmed by the morning’s events that his discomposure had wrapped back around into a strained sort of poise. He waited for her on the front porch of the inn while she returned to their room and retrieved her claws, always feeling rather naked when under open skies without them.

“Here, Princess,” he said in a low tone when she joined him outside several minutes later. He held out a cloak to her, its twin draped across his own arm. “The bartender made mention that they are available to guests at the inn, in the event the weather turns foul.”

“Smart thinking,” she replied, pulling on the light garment and carefully drawing the hood up over her high ponytail. “I’m sure it was Mony’s idea.”

Hendrik put on his own cloak, which was comically undersized on his large frame. He spotted her amusement and glanced down at himself. “The choices at hand were rather...limited,” he admitted.

Jade allowed herself the indulgence of a smile before moving on, tone turning businesslike. “Since we don’t seem to be leaving anytime soon, I thought it might be a good idea to talk to the townspeople—see if there’s anything we can help them out with.”

“Though the Luminary customarily performs such duties, I see no reason we could not act in his stead,” Hendrik agreed, hand unconsciously dropping to his sword hilt as he apparently considered the righteousness of assisting people in need.

“Should we split up, do you think?” Jade asked.

He hesitated a moment. “If Your Highness wishes it. But perhaps it might be wisest to remain in the same general vicinity, should either of us encounter any difficulties.”

Jade frowned slightly, not sure if she was imagining a certain... _protectiveness_ in his manner. It was one thing to wake up enfolded in all things Hendrik, but quite another to have him hovering over her guarding against surmised dangers. He’d been more than respectful about that lately, but—

_This den of iniquity is no place for a lady! You are coming with us!_

“I’m sure it’ll be all right,” she said, with a tad more force than necessary. “We’ll cover more ground that way, and we can meet back in the square here for lunch.”

She could tell that Hendrik _thought_ about objecting—with the sudden set of his jaw and the tightening of his gloved fingers on his hilt—but he evidently decided against it. He gave her a short nod instead, and raised his other hand in an invitation for her to lead the way down the steps out into the steady rain.

They parted at the item shop. Hendrik started speaking to the young girl with all the clumsiness that Jade expected from him when interacting with children, and it was only her stubbornness in striking out on her own that kept her from lingering to watch. Perhaps she was being unfair about his motivations; he wasn’t acting any differently than he would have with their other companions, after all. But still she felt the rankle of his knightly vigilance, and was determined to prove her independence—both to him, _and_ to herself.

The day’s weather did not improve as Jade wandered around the cobbled streets, talking here and there to the townsfolk as they ventured out from their homes to shops or eateries. As she’d expected, a handful recognized her from her last visit when they’d solved the problem of the mural. To her bewilderment, however, far _more_ seemed to somehow know about her recent ‘nuptials’, and her cheeks soon ached from the false smiles she gave at each hearty congratulations. After the sixth time, Jade found herself inwardly cursing the enthusiasm of serving girls and their loose lips.

She did gain some useful information, at least. There were a few simple materials requests that she was sure they could take care of once the party returned, and what sounded like a troublesome monster out in the Champs Sauvage. One person asked for her to go to the Grotta della Fonte, whose location she hadn’t the foggiest idea of. Perhaps Hendrik would know, or one of the others.

Something _else_ she heard occasional mention of was the presence of bandits in the area, but peculiarly, no one in Phnom Nonh seemed particularly bothered by them. The town wasn’t exactly overflowing with riches to lose, true, but it did still strike her oddly.

As Jade climbed to the top of a staircase, she happened to glance at a large house on the left just in time to see a flash of darkness skittering past the edge of it. This time, she didn’t wait before chasing after it, boots smacking on the wet stones as she ran. Skidding around the side of the house, she looked this way and that, trying to figure out where it had gone. She wasn’t even sure if it had been a person or some sort of beast or phantom, but she _was_ certain that whatever it was, it had been the same thing she’d seen the day previous.

After minutes of fruitless searching, Jade finally gave up and returned to the front of the house, frowning at the rain pounding down just outside the protection of the awning.

“Taking a break from the rain, miss?”

She jolted slightly and wheeled to see an elderly woman smiling at her from the door of the house.

“Oh—yes,” Jade replied, politely letting down the hood of her cloak as she answered. “I’m sorry for disturbing you. I won’t be longer than a minute or two.”

“Nonsense,” the woman chuckled, joining Jade underneath the awning. “The purpose of a house is to provide shelter, I think so, and you seem to be in need of it.”

“I’m not sure I’ve ever been quite _this_ wet before,” the princess admitted with a small smile. The cloak had certainly helped, but there was only so much that could be done about a day where the clouds grieved this steadily. She wondered how Hendrik was faring; he always caught cold so easily.

“You are welcome to stay as long as you like,” the old woman assured her. Her gaze turned upward and she looked at something curiously. “That is a beautiful ribbon you wear, if I may say so.”

Jade reached up to brush her fingers over the bright red fabric holding up her ponytail. “Thank you. It...was my mother’s.”

The woman smiled, the act wrinkling her eyes at the edges. “Ah, excellent taste she must have had.” Her face turned sly. “In truth, I had wondered if it was a gift from your new husband.”

Only by the grace of her rigorous training did Jade manage to keep from burying her face in her hands. Why couldn’t they have gotten stuck in Gallopolis or Puerto Valor or literally _anywhere_ _else_ , where the innkeepers were less prudish and the townsfolk less nosy? It was one thing to keep up a deception for the sake of a dry night’s sleep, but now it felt like this had all rather gotten away from her.

(She wondered if Hendrik was getting the same treatment in his _own_ interactions; she wondered what he had to say in return.)

It felt wrong to lie to this kindly old woman, so she settled for a half-truth instead. “No, he—he doesn’t really pay attention to things like that,” Jade said with a slight internal squirming.

The woman hummed. “Well, he has many fine qualities from what I have been told.” That sly look again as she added: “ _Very_ fine, I think so.”

For the second time that day, Jade found herself blushing. What on _Erdrea_ was wrong with her lately? “I...certainly have no complaints.”

She got a chuckle in return, but the woman mercifully did not follow up on that. Her face then turned contemplative as she looked out into the rain.

“I asked only because I myself received a hair ornament from my husband on our wedding day,” she said quietly. “A lovely set of combs, ivory inlaid with jade. They were very beautiful, yes, and brought me much comfort after his passing.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jade tried to say, her heart twisting with that achingly familiar compassion, but the woman waved it off.

“It was many years ago,” she replied, her eyes pensive. “One grows accustomed to most things, I think so.”

Jade nodded, feeling like she at once both understood and _could not_ understand her meaning. Then something occurred to her. “Forgive me, but...you said the combs _were_ very beautiful. Do you not still have them?”

The old woman turned back to her with another smile. “In time, we all learn what is most precious to us,” she said cryptically. “I have lost much, but found more—as have you with your marriage, yes?”

A gnawing guilt whispered through Jade. Suddenly it felt intolerable to keep up such a farce with the kindly old woman, speaking so fondly of her long-dead husband. She dropped her gaze, unable to look into those ancient eyes as they spoke of love and loss in such heartfelt ways.

“The rain seems lighter now,” she said after a long pause. “I...should probably be getting back.”

“Ah, to meet with your husband, I am sure!” the woman laughed, waving her on. “I will keep you no longer, then. Many wishes for your health and happiness, I think so!”

Jade acknowledged this with a stiff nod and hurried away, not realizing until three staircases later that she’d entirely forgotten to ask about the dark figure she’d seen.

 

* * *

 

Hendrik was protesting something; that much she could discern as she heard the sound of his voice floating overtop the wall overlooking the main square. Something about it—the sheer _familiarity_ of that fluctuation between sternness and pleading—curved her lips upward before she even saw him. She slowed down as she approached, trying to make out the words.

“Yes, they _were_ among my companions for a time,” she heard him saying, “but I am afraid I do not possess the same—or even _any_ —degree of rhythmic ability as those talented young men—”

“Dance!” came the insistent voice of a small child. “Dance, mister, dance!”

“Yeah! Like the parade!” shouted another, followed by high-pitched cheers.

“Children, _please_ —” was the despairing reply.

Jade rounded the corner of the staircase and saw a helpless Hendrik standing underneath a shelter near the inn, several cavorting children surrounding him. The look on his face was enough to bring her hand to her mouth to cover the giggle that threatened to escape. Her efforts seemed to be in vain, however, as Hendrik’s eyes suddenly snapped up to hers. She could almost pity the relief she saw there, with all its naive hopes of rescue.

“Dear me,” she said as she strolled over to the group and pulled back her hood, a wealth of false sympathy in her voice. “Perhaps we shouldn’t have split up after all, Hendrik—I’m terribly sorry to have left you to such a dismal fate alone.”

She saw his jaw clench as he belatedly realized _exactly_ how she was always going to react to such a spectacle. He frowned down at the children, who continued their excited prancing around the enormous knight. One of them, a young boy decorated with feathers and bright scarves, paused and turned to Jade.

“Can _you_ dance, miss?” he demanded. His question was excitedly echoed by his comrades, who apparently were willing to accept _anyone’s_ help with their little troupe at this point.

“I can,” Jade confirmed. “But I try not to, as it tends to make your large friend here quite upset when he has to watch.” She leaned in closer and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper that could have been heard from ten metres away. “Frankly, I think he’s jealous of my skill.”

Hendrik rubbed at his forehead as the children shrieked with laughter and resumed their gleeful dancing. Jade, smiling at their antics and Hendrik’s weariness both, was taken by surprise when his patience abruptly seemed to reach its limit and he drew himself up to his full height.

“That is quite enough, children,” he said sternly, looking over them with a scowl that had doubtless intimidated hundreds of recruits over the years. “It is time to go back to your families—at once!”

Suddenly cowed, the hopeful parade took one look at the knight’s face and then ran off into the rain, their frightened wails trailing after them.

“Was that really necessary, Hendrik?” Jade asked disapprovingly. “They’re just children.”

“ _You_ were not forced to seek shelter with them for these past minutes,” he replied with a huff. “It seems it _would_ have been better had you come here with Sylvando. I am certain he would have delighted in entertaining their foolish whims.”

Jade crossed her arms and frowned at him. She suddenly felt irked by this cavalier suggestion of his own replacement, as if their time here had been nothing but a trial to him. Of course, neither of them had anticipated the necessity of their ruse, and she _had_ been fairly relentless in her teasing; but it hadn’t all been awful, had it? Wasn’t it nice, in a strange sort of way, to have this break from the weight of their duties? To spend a little time together after so many years apart?

—to feel his arms around her, his lips against her own—

Hendrik seemed to detect her irritation, and a look of contrition immediately came over his face. “I apologize for speaking so curtly,” he said in a quieter tone. “I did not mean to vex you...”—here he stumbled the slightest bit, his eyes darting almost shyly—”...beloved.”

All the air rushed out of Jade then. A fluttering overtook her stomach—impossible to acknowledge, even more impossible to deny—as she stared at him, eyes wide. Her anger had vanished and been replaced with...with _something_ , warming her body all the way through. Hendrik’s gaze still shifted nervously, fixating on some point over her right shoulder, but her own had instinctively dropped to his mouth.

“Hendrik,” she started to say—hesitant, _wondering_ —but then there was a noise behind her and she spun around.

Parsi was busily sweeping the front porch of the inn a few metres away, glancing suspiciously in their direction every now and then. She must have come out quite recently, Jade realized, her racing heart slowly starting to sink as understanding dawned; recently enough for...

...for her ostensible husband to conceal an address that might have given everything away.

All at once, Jade felt like a complete and utter _fool_.

“I do not much enjoy loiterers, I think so,” Parsi said loudly, sniffing as she swept with the vigour of a woman half her age.

Jade instantly seized on this excuse and tugged her hood up, eager to get away— _far_ away—from anything to do with inns or innkeepers, or even thought entirely. She glanced up at Hendrik, who was looking down at her with bemused concern.

“Come on,” she said brusquely as she stepped back out into the rain. “Let’s find somewhere else to have lunch.”

 

* * *

 

‘Somewhere else’ turned out to be an _astoundingly_ delicious kebab stand a few stairways up in town. Hendrik and Jade sat at a bench underneath an enormous umbrella as they ate, comparing notes from the morning’s investigation.

“You actually wrote it all down?” was the first thing out of her mouth when he retrieved a meticulously detailed sheet of parchment from the pouch at his belt.

“Certainly,” he replied, shifting uncomfortably at her scrutiny. “I would like to ensure that the Luminary has sufficient information when determining our course.”

“Yes, but...do you _really_ keep a quill and inkpot in there, too?” she asked, her eyes narrowed as she examined his belt pouch with more interest than she’d ever before thought herself capable of.

Hendrik flushed slightly and cleared his throat. “A knight always comes prepared, Princess. Now, to the matter at hand—”

The townspeople he’d spoken to had had much the same types of requests as hers. The materials would have to wait for the party’s return, but there were a few local monsters they might be able to take care of, if the storm cooperated. There were reports of bandits in the area, but not much more information than that. She asked about the Grotta della Fonte, but he’d never heard of the place either; although, he admitted, geography had never been his strong suit.

“And what _was_ your strong suit, Hendrik?” she asked archly. “I recall your spending quite a bit of time mucking out the stables as punishment for inattention in your lessons.”

“Your father was always most impressed with my ability to recall the details of famous military battles,” he replied with no small amount of pride.

“Ah, I should have guessed.”

Most significantly, Hendrik had heard a very interesting rumour from a travelling merchant.

“The man insisted that he’d heard tell of _two_ sets of my formal armour for sale in Gondolia!” The knight could barely curtail his outrage as he spoke, gesticulating wildly with a half-eaten kebab. “At the very least, _one_ must be a vile forgery, preying on the naive and ignorant!”

“Aren’t you a little more interested in how your armour might have wound up in Gondolia in the first place?” Jade asked, hiding a smile behind her own kebab. Whatever its downsides, the _food_ in Phnom Nonh always made the visit worthwhile.

“I shall, of course, request that we travel there so that I may verify its authenticity,” Hendrik replied dismissively. “But as for the _other_ —”

“I _know_ , Hendrik,” she said, rolling her eyes a little. “Let’s just concentrate on helping the people _here_ first, all right?” After another moment of grumbling, he grudgingly agreed.

They’d just decided to follow up on a vicious Jockilles seen in the area when they were interrupted by an eager voice.

“Mister Knight!”

A young boy of about eight or nine years came running over to their bench, covered from head to toe in a sturdy cloak. He threw back his hood and beamed at Hendrik, excitedly hopping from one foot to the other.

“Son!” Hendrik looked surprised to see the boy, whom he obviously knew. “And Da,” he added as a man walked up behind him, also smiling.

“It is good to see you again, sir,” the man said with enthusiasm. “Have you been well? Where is your friend with the feathers, and the other one?”

“They are...occupied with another matter at the moment, but we are all quite well,” Hendrik assured him.

Jade had been watching the interaction with interest, always secretly delighted at being able to observe Hendrik’s slightly awkward brand of friendliness, when she suddenly noticing Son staring at her, open-mouthed.

“Is this your girlfriend, Mister Knight?” he burst out. “She is beautiful!”

“Son, that is hardly a polite way to speak,” his father chided him.

“Ah...” Hendrik paused and reddened slightly, and Jade braced herself for his answer. He had been willing to go along with her ploy to a point, but he would hardly wish to lie to people he knew. She decided to spare him the embarrassment and confess the truth herself. If it made its way through town, so be it; they’d spent worse nights at campsites out in the open.

“Actually—” she began, at the very same moment as Hendrik spoke.

“No, she is not,” he said, with a firmness that surprised her. “In actuality, she is...my wife.”

Jade blinked, not quite sure if she had heard correctly. Hendrik was steadfastly not looking at her, but the flush on his neck and face had grown rapidly. She followed his line of sight, peering about for some hint of innkeeper or serving girl that necessitated the response, but there was no one else around on that dreary day.

He had no reason to claim their fictitious relationship—and, in fact, every reason _not_ to—but...he had anyway.

She was pulled from her jumbled thoughts by Da’s breaking into a jovial exclamation. “I did not know that you had married, sir! Many congratulations to you both.” He smiled at Jade. “And if you will not find this offensive, I must say that Son is correct—you are most enchanting, miss.”

“Well...thank you,” Jade said politely, wondering if she had fallen and hit her head to wind up in this situation.

Hendrik cleared his throat several times before speaking again. His cheeks were still quite pink, but his composure was remarkably intact—for him, at any rate. “We had been noticing that the town fares poorly, Da. Has some other calamity befallen your people?”

“It is the way of the world since Yggdrasil fell, sir,” the man waved it off, unconcerned. “We shall grow and prosper once more, I am sure of it.”

The knight frowned. “Still, I had thought that with the remainder of Avarith’s treasures, you would be able to start a new industry, perhaps, and encourage trade.”

It was Da’s turn to frown this time. “Ah, sir—surely you must have known—” he started, scratching at the top of his head in confusion.

At that moment, a shout came from the kebab stand. Jade swivelled around to look, reflexively reaching for her claws as she did so. The owner of the stand was pointing into the street, where a dark figure was racing off. “Stop! Thief!”

Jade was off the bench in a flash, tearing out into the rain in hot pursuit. From the pounding of wet footsteps behind her, she knew that Hendrik was following closely. They ran down the cobbled streets together, strings of swaying lanterns glowing in the misty air.

The shadowy silhouette was fast, and obviously familiar with the town as it managed to stay just ahead of them. After passing by several houses, it darted down an alleyway. Jade made it just in time to see the figure scrambling up a pile of boxes at the end that allowed it to reach a higher street. She paused, brushing her wet bangs back from her eyes as Hendrik caught up with her.

“You take the stairs and we’ll cut them off at the top!” she shouted, trying to be heard over the relentless rain. He nodded once and then took off in the opposite direction.

Jade turned back to the alleyway and drew in a deep breath before sprinting toward the boxes. Her hood flapped uselessly on her back as she leapt into the air, landing halfway up the pile of crates and quickly scaling the rest of it. She pulled herself up over the edge of the railing above, wood slick against her gloved hands, and vaulted over the top. There was a flash of darkness in her peripheral vision and she was racing after it as soon as her boots hit the ground.

The figure ran around the side of a large house and out of sight. When Jade rounded the corner, she let out a startled grunt as she nearly ran right into it, backing away from something further along in the shadows. After a moment, the reason became clear: Hendrik was there, his sword raised menacingly as he stalked slowly toward the dark figure from the other side of the house’s wraparound porch. Before it could get around them or make another infuriating escape, Jade lunged forward and tackled it to the ground.

Her bangs again fell into her eyes as she straddled the figure’s waist and pulled it into a headlock. She tore off the dark cowl covering its head and finally got a good look at the shadowy presence that had stayed maddeningly out of her sight this past day.

It was a young man, probably only a little older than she, garbed in dark clothing. His eyes were beady and his face screwed up with pain at Jade’s merciless hold. “Ow! Please! Have mercy!” he gasped as he struggled beneath her.

“Who are you?” she demanded, impatiently tossing her hair to get it out of her way. In her peripheral vision, she saw the shining tip of Hendrik’s sword as he kept it steadily trained on the man.

“Only—only a common thief!” was the desperate reply. “I never meant no harm!”

“No harm?” One arm still across his neck, Jade fumbled around at the man’s waist, heedless of his renewed cries as her knee dug into his stomach. Her fingers finally caught purchase on a small pouch and she pulled it out, tipping its meager contents in her hand: several small coins, that she and Hendrik had paid to the kebab stand owner only a half-hour ago.

“What do you call these, then?” she asked sharply. “This might be the only profit that stand sees all day!”

“Such a little amount, I didn’t think nobody would miss it!” The thief’s pathetic whining only served to increase Jade’s anger. Her arm pressed against his neck more tightly and she looked down at him with disgust.

“Is this really how you decide to spend your days?” she bit off. “Taking advantage of the innocent people of this town?”

“’Course not!” the thief protested, shaking his head wildly. All possibility of some altruistic motive for this denial was immediately washed away, however: “Travellers usually have _much_ more on ’em! I’d been following _you_ for the past day, till I realized you and your ’usband here were tougher customers than I thought.”

“But then why pilfer from the very stand we were patronizing?” Hendrik asked from above them, speaking up for the first time. His sword had twitched slightly at the word ‘husband’, but he otherwise remained a solid wall of knightly intimidation.

The thief hung his head—as much as he was able to from his position within Jade’s firm grip. “Didn’t see you, did I? I’ve got enough problems as it is, let alone inviting _this_ kind of trouble. It’s hard for an honest pickpocket to make a living in this town these days—not like it used to be.”

“Make a _living_ —” Jade’s anger suddenly flared into outright fury. She grabbed the man’s shirt and twisted him around, tugging him upward by the collar to glare furiously into his terrified eyes.

“When you’ve lost _everything_ , you don’t take from others to get it back!” she snarled. “You help each other! You build it up again, together—no matter the cost!” How many times had she suffered through poverty, destitution, loneliness, fear; and not resorted to this? How many times had she never taken the easy way out?

_Why in the world would I want to join your band of do-gooders? I'm happy here! Happy, for the first time in my life!_

Her arms trembled and her breath came out in laboured puffs. Then she felt the solid weight of a hand on her shoulder, startling her. Her grip on the thief’s shirt slackened as she looked up.

“Princess,” Hendrik said quietly. His sword was still trained on the thief but he gazed at her instead, his eyes filled with compassion. In the hazy light of the lanterns, it almost looked like... _pity_.

Jade turned away again, heart twisting in her chest as the rage bled away. Her eyes narrowed on the thief, who seemed not a little invested in learning exactly how many more seconds of life he had left to enjoy.

“You will leave this place— _today_ ,” she told him in a steely voice. “I don’t care where you go, so long as you don’t bother these people any longer.”

The man nodded vigorously, looking like he was quite unable to believe his good fortune. “Yes! I will! I promise!”

She dropped her hands from his shirt and his head fell to the ground with another pained cry. He scrambled up again as soon as she let him out of her hold and immediately put several feet of distance between himself and his two pursuers. Hendrik gave Jade a questioning look as she rose, and then slid his sword back into his scabbard with a grating scrape.

“A thousand thanks for your mercy!” the thief said, bobbing into a grotesque parody of a bow as he backed away. “I’ll get ready to leave, straight away! I may be a thief, but I got _some_ honour, I surely do!”

Jade deliberately turned her back to him, unable to look at the contemptuous man any longer. She poured the coins back into the pouch and was about to ask Hendrik if he was ready to leave when the thief’s voice floated over to them again.

“A word of advice, though, miss!” he called. “If you’re so keen on helping the town and all, I hear those bandits have a whole _pile_ of treasure in that cliffside cave of theirs to the south! Might be worth a look-see, eh?”

She whirled back. “What treasure?” she demanded—to the empty air, as the thief was now nowhere to be seen.

Beside her, Hendrik frowned. “I believe he speaks of the cave on the promontory, where the fiend Avaraith imprisoned the townspeople.”

“Do you think there really are bandits there?” she asked, also frowning in thought.

“We have heard many reports of them—though they do not seem to concern themselves with the town at present.”

“At _present_ ,” Jade said slowly, absently brushing back her damp bangs once more. “But what about when Phnom Nonh grows prosperous once more? And what if there really _is_ a treasure hoard? Possibly even...enough treasure to give everyone the fresh start they need?”

Hendrik’s eyes searched her face quizzically, until understanding came over him all at once. “Princess—”

“Keep that sword handy, Hendrik,” she told him in a determined voice, cracking her knuckles ominously. “ _We’re_ going bandit-hunting.”


	3. Desperate Times Call for Desperate Treasures

The knight, of course, had several objections; but Princess Jade, ever efficient in her methods, entertained them _as_ they made their preparations, rather than letting him hold up the whole expedition.

“What if their forces are more numerous than we expect?” came as they walked back through the rain to the stand; “Is it not possible that the thief was prevaricating?” when they returned the coins to the grateful kebab vendor, Da and Son now nowhere to be seen; “Would it not be wisest to wait for our companions to return, and face the threat together?” as they returned to the inn to grab supplies and fresh cloaks.

“They’re _bandits_ , Hendrik,” Jade said with a roll of her eyes, closing the door to their room behind them as they entered the lobby once more. “Aren’t you a match for at least half a dozen all by yourself?”

“Be that as it may,” he protested, with all the modesty of a soldier unable to deny an accurate appraisal of his skill.

Along with Hendrik’s pleading opposition, there existed a voice in the back of her head, warning her about the _last_ time she went charging off into potential danger without a real plan; but Jade pushed it away as best she could. She wasn’t alone this time—she had Hendrik, the erstwhile Hero of Heliodor himself. Together, they were a force equal to almost all threats Erdrea could throw at them. What could possibly go wrong?

Parsi was in the taproom when they made their way back downstairs, wiping tables with a scowl that spoke louder than words just _what_ she thought of patrons disrespectful enough to spill food or drink in her temporary establishment. She looked up when she saw them.

“And where do you two go in this weather?” the woman asked with narrowed eyes.

“Oh, nowhere particularly interesting,” Jade said with an innocent smile. “Just out to take care of the bandit problem. I imagine we’ll be back for supper.”

The innkeeper stared at her a moment before sniffing and turning back to her work, muttering something under her breath about ‘young people’ and ‘euphemisms’.

Jade’s determination faltered when they entered the Champs Sauvage and faced the reality of the storm _outside_ of Phnom Nonh’s protective cliffs. Without that rocky shelter taking the edge off the wind, the rain lashed down mercilessly, obscuring their vision more than a few feet ahead.

“Princess, I have grave doubts about the wisdom of this course of action!” Hendrik shouted as he struggled to be heard above the torrent.

She privately had to admit that she shared them, as much as this had been her idea. A moment of hesitation, and she almost suggested turning back; but then she thought of Da and Son and the kebab owner and the old woman and even Parsi—everyone who deserved a better life than the one they were eking out in this town beset by troubles. A better life that Hendrik and Jade could perhaps help them achieve.

“I’m sure it’ll let up soon!” she called back. Hendrik looked at her helplessly, and then pulled his hood further up over his head as he set his jaw and turned toward the path.

Surprisingly, Jade had been correct: the rain did let up as they went, and had lightened to a drizzle by the time they passed the campsite south of town. It left much evidence of its recent downpour, however, in the form of muck and standing water in the grassy fields.

“Perhaps it is best that Obsidian could not join me,” Hendrik sighed. “With conditions such as these, his coat would require extensive brushing afterward.”

“I don’t know that I’ve _ever_ seen this much mud on the ground,” Jade said with distaste as she gingerly stepped around a large patch of brown sludge. Her boots were probably going to be a loss after this, she thought mournfully.

“I have only once before,” Hendrik replied with a small smile. “A battlefield in southern Heliodor after an unexpected summer tempest. We fought the elements as much as we did the monsters, and it took nearly a week afterward to rid myself of the stench. With his long hair, Jasper fared much more poorly than—”

Jade stumbled slightly as he suddenly cut himself off. She agonized for a long moment about whether or not to look up at him, in some strange way not wanting to pry into the privacy of this unwelcome recollection. Finally, unable to bear it, she sneaked a quick glance.

Hendrik’s lips were pressed tightly together and his eyes as hard as she’d ever seen them. Unlike her, he had both made and kept a resolution not to meet her gaze, and stared steadily at the horizon ahead. She quickly dropped her own again.

All of them, wounded by memories that never seemed to close up. Would putting an end to this finally allow them to heal? Or would there always be the scars?

She had no answers to these questions, no ability—or right—to reassure; only the wish that theirs was still a bond that allowed the comfort of touch, absent the excuse of nosy innkeepers. So she walked on in silence instead, beside the one person who understood _loss_ even better than she did.

 

* * *

 

They reached the promontory mid-afternoon, according to the faint hint of sun they could see behind the grey clouds. Although eager to get in out of the relentless rain, they paused at the cave mouth and scouted for any hint of bandits.

“I see no signs of activity, Princess,” Hendrik said in a low voice from his position on one side of the entrance.

“Me neither,” she shook her head. “I think it’s probably safe—for now.” She took a moment to strap on her claws regardless, while Hendrik thumbed his sword slightly out of its scabbard.

Inside it was blessedly dry despite the humidity of the weather. The cave was very large, with scatterings of plants growing in the walls, as well as sizeable stalactites hanging from the rocky ceiling. Iron bars had been fitted into several natural openings to form crude cages. There was all the usual evidence of a bandit camp—fire pits, bedrolls, makeshift seating—but Jade’s attention was instantly caught by a glittering sight on the far wall.

“The thief was right!” she breathed as she rushed over to the frankly _enormous_ pile of treasure, wonder in her eyes. “I haven’t seen anything like this since the Gyldenhal.”

Beside her, Hendrik’s gaze was equally wide. “It is significant indeed,” he said with a frown, “but it seems to me...”

“Wait!” Jade had spotted something in a chest nearby and quickly slipped off one of her claws so she could reach inside. She stared as she pulled out an ivory comb, inlaid with jade. Its twin appeared to be lying right beneath it. “This is...this belonged to an old woman I spoke to in Phnom Nonh! Her husband gave them to her long ago.”

She looked up at Hendrik, puzzled. “But what is it doing _here?_ ”

“Princess,” he said, suddenly intent. He was gazing seriously at the treasure, his brow furrowed. “These seem to be the very same treasures Avarith stole months ago. We had assumed the townspeople to have recovered them afterward, but that assumption now appears to be in error.”

Jade was even _more_ mystified now. “Why wouldn’t they have?” She gestured at the chests overflowing with gold and gems. “All this could really help the town out!”

“Perhaps...” Hendrik’s frown deepened as he mulled that one over. “Perhaps the bandits prevented their retrieval?”

“Then why did no one seem bothered by them?” Jade huffed with disbelief, once more examining the comb in her hand. “I had a request to help someone find their lost _cat_ this morning. You’d think their life’s riches would rank higher on the list than that!”

“Regardless, we seem to have solved the mystery of both the town’s poverty _and_ the bandits’ inattention toward them,” he mused. “All that remains is to defeat the menace and inform the people that they are free to—”

It took her a moment to realize that Hendrik had abruptly stopped speaking. She turned around just in time to see his eyes roll up into his head before he toppled to the ground with a loud thump.

“Hendrik!” Jade shouted, scrambling to rise. There was a furtive movement in the corner of her eye and then a deafening rush of sound in her head, before everything went dark.

 

* * *

 

The world came back to her slowly, or she came back to the world—it was impossible for her to figure out which was correct in the groggy haze that enveloped her. She blinked with heavy lids, instinctively grateful for the dim light of...wherever this was, as she cracked her eyes open wider and her vision swam into focus.

Vertical bars were the first things she noticed; rocky walls and floor came second, followed by a shining glint of gold at the edges. This last one seized her heart for a moment, the dread of her familiar nightmare flooding her mind, before memory came back to her.

Jade sat up quickly, wincing as she swayed and grabbed at her head. She hadn’t often been put under the effects of Sleeping Hibiscus, but she recognized its telltale scent clinging to her clothes and hair. There was a faint hint of it from nearby, too, and she turned her head to see—

“Hendrik!” Jade ignored the sudden painful throbbing as she crawled over to where a large figure lay still on the stone floor. She grabbed his shoulder and rolled him over, frantically putting two fingers to his neck and another hand on his chest. His eyes remained closed and his face pale but she soon reassured herself of both pulse _and_ breath, faint but steady. They must have given him an extra dose, for him to still be out after she had woken up.

 _They_. She cautiously peered out through the bars of the cage into the cave proper. There was a fire lit in one of the pits, but no other sign of anyone around. Possibly it had been a guard or scout who had found them, someone left behind while the main group was out doing whatever nefarious things bandits did around here—kicking puppies, perhaps, or breeding pet trolls.

Jade glanced down at Hendrik again and started loosening the ties of her cloak. She carefully lifted his head and placed the wadded up garment underneath it. A somewhat pitiful pillow, but the best she could do. Then, on shaky legs, she rose and started to examine her surroundings.

The door was locked—no such luck _there_ for criminal incompetence. Her claws had been taken from her and there was nothing in the cell that could be used as an improvised lockpick. (Rab would be disappointed when he heard of it later; he’d always looked forward to the day when his painstaking lessons would pay off in a daring escape.) The walls of the cage were another dead end, a solid kind of rock as impenetrable as a mountain.

That left the bars themselves. A few cursory tests betrayed no obvious weaknesses at the floor or ceiling, but Jade was just starting to look more closely when there was a groan behind her. She instantly abandoned her search and flew back to Hendrik’s side.

“Hendrik?” she breathed. “Oh, thank goodness you’re all right! Wait, don’t get up too quickly—” Relief turned to caution, as—predictably enough—he regained consciousness and immediately started looking around for a fight. Her worried hands hovered over him as he struggled up onto one elbow and squinted at her.

“P...Princess?” he slurred, blinking blearily.

“That’s me,” she said softly. Her fingers brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes. “You were hit with a Sleeping Hibiscus—several, from what I can tell. It might be a few minutes before you begin feeling normal again.”

Rather than listen to her, he of _course_ tried to rise. “I...I must...” With what looked to be a gargantuan effort, Hendrik managed to push himself up into a halfway sitting position. He shook his head in an attempt to dispel the fog and rose yet further. “I...”

Jade saw his impending collapse just in time. “Hendrik!” She caught his head before it banged down onto the rocky floor, but could do nothing about his shoulder barking against it instead. He sucked in a sharp breath and squeezed his eyes shut.

Still holding his face in a careful grasp, she glanced down at the wadded up cloak before making a decision. She slid closer and shifted until she was sitting cross-legged, her back to the wall. Then, knowing he would probably fight this as much, if not more than he just had gravity, she gently moved her hands and pulled his head into her lap.

She was right about the fighting: Hendrik immediately struggled against this position, a grunt of protest sounding deep in his throat. Luckily, his groggy state made their respective strengths almost equal for once, and she pushed him back down insistently. “Rest for a minute,” she told him firmly. “You’re no good to anyone if you hit your head.”

“Princess,” he protested weakly, ever the stubborn general refusing to surrender. “This is...most unseemly...”

“I can think of at least two even _more_ inappropriate situations we’ve found ourselves in today,” she told him, suddenly feeling very tired. Her hands pressed down on his shoulder again. “Forget about propriety for once, Hendrik—please.”

Jade expected the fight to go out of him slowly, a rearguard battle to the end, but he instead almost seemed to go boneless against her as he gave in. The full weight of his head fell heavily into her lap, forehead resting in the crook of her knee and his nose nudging her calf. He let out a long, slow breath against the leather of her boot.

“That’s better,” she said with a small smile. She saw his eyes drift shut and he did not reply.

They sat there some minutes in the dim cell, Jade’s hand on his shoulder steadily rising and falling with his breathing. It was probably not, strictly speaking, necessary to leave it there; but she didn’t really have anywhere else to put it, and she felt the comforting warmth of him through that hideous yellow sweater. The sound of the light rain outside echoed through the cave, in what would have been a soothing cadence in any other situation.

Like a warm bed, she thought. A warm bed in a quiet inn, just the two of them, together _—_

She pulled her mind away from such nonsense, her stomach twisting. Was it really just yesterday that they’d last been with their friends, the weight of the world’s future upon them? It seemed like a thousand years ago, somehow—a thousand years spent only with Hendrik, so familiar and yet strange at the same time. A part of her itched to resume her testing of the cell’s fortifications, feeling both the march of time as well as a clawing frustration at their confinement. But even if she escaped, he could not yet follow, and to leave without this man at her side was unthinkable.

“Forgive me, Princess,” came a quiet rumble, startling her from her thoughts. “My surprise at the circumstances dulled my awareness of my surroundings. A novice mistake, and an indefensible one.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re feeling well enough to use five-syllable words again,” she teased, covering up her relief. His eyes were still closed, but he did manage to let out a sigh of resignation that scattered goosebumps along her leg.

After another moment, Hendrik turned his head slightly to blink up at her. “Have you ascertained anything of our assailants?” he asked.

“Not a lot,” she said with a frown. “I don’t think anyone’s here right now, but they could be back soon. I was testing the bars of the cell when you woke up.”

Again he pushed against her hold in his efforts to sit up. “Princess, if there is any chance of your own escape—”

Jade pressed him back down, more satisfied by this possibly-once-in-a-lifetime reversal of their power differential than she would ever be willing to admit. “Don’t be ridiculous, Hendrik. Give yourself another minute and then we’ll figure it out together.”

“But, Your Highness—” he protested, neck straining as he turned to her with imploring eyes.

She didn’t know what possessed her to do it (a lie; but it was all right when she was only lying to herself, wasn’t it?). Her hand moved from its firm grip on his shoulder up to his face, fingers brushing over his forehead before stroking into his hair in a steady, soothing motion.

The immediate effect this had on Hendrik was astonishing: all struggle ceased as his eyes fluttered closed and he drooped into her lap once more. He let out a shuddering breath when she repeated the gesture, fingertips gently scraping against his scalp with her caress.

“Princess Jade...” A whisper, seen on his lips more than heard through the air.

How long had it been since someone had touched him like this? Not in competition or camaraderie, but with tenderness. She watched through half-lidded eyes as his face underwent a thousand tiny shifts in expression, helpless to control his reactions. Her heart thudded in her breast and she almost entirely forgot where they were. The world had narrowed down to only the warmth of his head in her lap and the slow slide of her fingers through his hair.

Years of separation, months of distance, and suddenly they’d been thrown into...whatever this was. On a day when she’d felt the press of his desire and the softness of his lips, it seemed an absurdity that _this_ could somehow be the most achingly intimate moment of all; but it was, and she knew she couldn’t even begin untangling the truth of it right then.

“It’s all right,” Jade told him quietly. Her voice rose to lightness, trying to push past the lump that had caught in her throat. “Even mighty heroes need to take a break every once in a while, you know.”

Hendrik immediately tensed beneath her hand and she saw his eyes snap back open. “That...is not a title I can lay claim to,” he rasped.

Well, attempt at levity catastrophically backfired. But if he could be stubborn, then she could surpass it—tenfold.

“Nonsense,” she said easily, still brushing gentle fingers through his hair. “You’ve been an official hero ever since the day you rescued my stuffed bunny from the castle pond. I even drew you a picture, remember?”

Some of the stiffness went out of him and his frown relaxed into the ghost of a smile. “One of my proudest accolades,” he admitted. “It remains in my desk drawer still.” The slight curving of his lips vanished. “At least, it did, until...”

Jade’s hand faltered in his hair. Though she had only a child’s memories of the place, the idea of Heliodor Castle in ruins was almost impossible to imagine. But little of the world had been spared the destruction from Yggdrasil’s fall, former home or not.

“If we do our jobs correctly, I suppose Erdrea will need builders far more than heroes afterward,” she sighed. “I’m afraid I’ve never been very good with a hammer.”

“Nor I, Princess,” came his reply.

He hesitated then, and turned his head slightly to look at her. “I pray you will not take offense, but...do you intend on visiting the Last Bastion before our assault on Moredegon’s forces? The king longs to see you.”

Now, her hand stilled entirely. “I...don’t know,” she said slowly. “I always thought that when my father regained his senses, everything would be—over, somehow. Not like this, with so much left to...”

She broke off, looking out into the dimness of the cave. Her reluctance was difficult enough to grapple with in her own mind, let alone form into words. She had been so long away, so long keeping to the shadows and helping where it was needed. It didn’t feel... _right_ to return before their work was finished and her reunion earned—that her place there would not truly exist until then. But how to explain that to a man like Hendrik, who never forgot whose daughter she was or the role she was destined to assume? A knight for whom duty to crown and country would always be paramount?

— _the king’s little lapdog—_

“I’m sorry,” she said with a humourless huff. “I’m probably not making much sense, am I?”

He was silent a long moment before replying. Jade sat there, fingers still tangled in his hair, half-afraid he would try to _convince_ her to go for her father’s sake, or chide her about her responsibilities.

“If you will permit me to accompany you, then I would very much like to go together,” Hendrik said quietly. “After...our work is done.”

She shouldn’t have been surprised by the relief that filled her; when had he ever not understood, or accepted what he didn’t? Her eyes dropped to his again and she carefully tucked his hair behind his ear.

“I’d like that,” she told him. A mischievous smile came over her face. “Just so long as _you_ aren’t overcome by a spasm of guilt and spill the details about this whole scandalous adventure.”

As she’d hoped, that put a bit of colour back in his cheeks. After another moment, he gingerly lifted his head from her lap. “I believe I have now had ample time to recover, Princess.” Jade refused to give acknowledgement to the way her thighs mourned the loss of his warmth as he slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position and stretched out his aching muscles.

“My sword?” he asked, glancing around the cell with narrowed eyes.

She shook her head. “Probably out there somewhere, along with my claws.”

“Very well,” he sighed. With a grunt he rose from the floor and straightened. “Then let us determine the most likely point of egress.”

 

* * *

 

Hendrik was the one to find it, a slight gap where the metal bars met the rocky ceiling of the cell roof. After what must have been at least twenty minutes of otherwise fruitless searching—with the clock ticking on their captors’ eventual return—it looked to be the only point of weakness.

“It isn’t big enough to pry apart, is it?” Jade asked as stood on her tiptoes and peered up.

“I think not, Princess,” he answered. “Brute force is likely our only option.”

She frowned and backed up a few paces while Hendrik got out of the way. Her long hair twisted around herself as she spun and her foot hit the metal with a loud _clang_. There was a scattering of dust and small rocks from the ceiling of the cell, but the bars did not budge.

“Your turn,” Jade told the knight.

Hendrik stepped up to the bars and grasped them firmly, first pulling and then pushing with all his considerable might. His face turned red with the exertion and a vein started throbbing in his neck. Jade was about to call him off when he stepped back himself, shaking out his gloved hands as he turned to her.

“I fear the effects of the flower linger still,” he said with chagrin. “My strength is much diminished.”

“Maybe some form of club?” she suggested, but after another careful search, there was nothing in the cell resembling a weapon.

Jade looked out a bit anxiously at the fading light seen through the gaps in the cave wall. There was no telling when the bandits would return, but dusk was as likely a time as any. If they didn’t get out before then—

There was another flurry of dust as Hendrik slammed his shoulder up against the bars. She could see his face contort with pain, but he gritted his teeth and tried again, then again. The ceiling groaned slightly, but still it was not enough to loosen the metal from where it had been firmly lodged into the rock. He finally fell back, panting, and there was a flash of light from his Midheal as it skimmed across his chest.

“As much as this pains me to say, we may be forced to remain here until an opportunity presents itself,” Hendrik said, gazing down at her gravely. “If nothing else, when our companions return—”

“No!” Jade said sharply. “I’m not going to wait around to be rescued—never again!” She turned back to the bars with fierce determination.

 _Kick_ —small rocks cascaded down across the green leather of her outfit. _Kick—_ a shuddering from somewhere deep within the cave. _Kick, kick, kick—_ a flurry of blows, with an accompanying metal creak as the bar beneath her boot finally bent the slightest amount.

She dropped her foot and drew in several gasping breaths as she stared at the rod with a surge of triumph. “It’s working! If I could have just a bit more _power_ —”

Hendrik spread his hands helplessly. “Neither one of us possesses the ability to Oomph, Princess.”

The realization came to her at once. “No, we don’t,” she said with a tight grin. “But there _is_ another way.”

Hendrik’s brow furrowed as Jade lifted her hand and then paused. “Sorry about this,” she added, before he disappeared behind the scorch of red flames that filled her vision.

The Re-Vamp spell slammed into her, roaring in her head as a shuddering heat coursed through her veins and electrified each inch of her body. It whispered to her, shivery, seductive things— _power, pleasure, conquest, control_ —and she grappled for dominance even as she felt the swell of new strength building within her. Higher and higher it went, almost to the point of bursting—into what, she did not know, she had never yet found out—before she gained mastery over its ferocity, taming it to work _for_ her, to reassert her sense of self over the tempest within.

When the smoke cleared, the first thing she saw again was Hendrik. He was staring at her with wild eyes, and she felt a twisting thrill as they swept down her transformed body and then back up again. She cocked one eyebrow at him, and he swallowed hard before dropping his gaze.

“The bars, Your Highness,” he said hoarsely. The whispers urged her to linger here—to tease, to _tempt_ —but she deliberately pushed them away as she returned to the front of the cell. Drawing in a deep breath and raising her stockinged leg into position, she unleashed a Multifeet at the barrier before her.

It worked—and then some. With a shrieking groan of metal, her heeled foot punched straight through, blasting apart fully half the rods that comprised the cell wall. This was immediately followed by an ominous rumbling from deeper in the rock, and bits of stone tumbled from the ceiling as the cave seemed to shake all around them.

“Let’s go!” she ordered Hendrik, not wanting to be caught in a cave-in after _everything else_ they’d already been through. She dashed out of the cage with the knight close behind her and they immediately split up, searching for their confiscated weapons.

It was when she was pawing through a pile of blankets by the firepit that she heard Hendrik’s shout: “Look out, Princess!” She moved instinctively, leaping back from the unseen danger without thought. Seconds afterward, she heard a great rending of rock and a stalactite crashed down to the ground where she had just been, bursting into several pieces on impact. Across the cave, another one fell, and she heard Hendrik’s cry of alarm as he narrowly evaded it.

“It is not safe in here!” he called out to her. “We should exit the cave and retrieve our weapons after it stabilizes!”

“Good thinking!” she agreed. From both sides of the cave, they ran for the entrance—at the precise moment a dozen bandits rushed in from outside, weapons at the ready.

“They’re tryin’ to take our treasure!” one of them shouted, gesturing at the two warriors. “Get them!”

She immediately fell into a defensive stance as several rough-looking men and women charged her. She dodged the first blow and followed up with a vicious counter-attack that sent the bandit sprawling to the floor. The next lunged forward with his sword and she leapt into a spinning kick, knocking it out of his hands before her other foot went flying into his face. Her vision had taken on a reddish cast and her blood sang with the excitement of battle, heightened under the effects of the Re-Vamp.

The other bandits seemed finally to realize the danger and drew back, eyes wary as they moved to encircle her. She quickly glanced at the other side of the room and saw Hendrik well in control of his own situation. He’d divested an unfortunate thug of his shortsword and shield and was routing them as thoroughly as only a trained knight of Heliodor could do. Her eyes lingered on him a moment, a pulse of pleasure thrumming through her at his prowess, before she turned back to her opponents and her lips curved upward.

“Well? Are you naughty boys and girls ready to give up?” she asked, relishing the echoing timbre of her voice. “Or do I need to inflict a little more _punishment_ first?”

Before they could respond, another stalactite smashed to the ground only feet away. With terrified yells, the bandits immediately attacked, almost tripping over themselves to get to her. The fight began anew.

One of them scored a lucky hit at the end of a kick and sliced her leg and stocking both with his sword. She hissed in pain and turned a baleful eye upon him. To his credit, the man seemed to instantly regret his actions, and was clearly coming up with a new plan for a life of peace and retirement, before she brained him with her foot and he fell senseless to the floor. Seconds later, a bright light enveloped her and she felt the soothing tingle of a healing spell wash over her leg.

She paused to blow a kiss to other side of the cave in thanks. Despite her having curtailed its usual beguilement, she saw Hendrik blink in consternation before he remembered himself and blocked a fearsome slash just in time.

The sounds of battle echoed through the cave, shouts and clangs of metal bouncing off the walls as the deep groaning of the rock continued. Oh, but it felt _good_ to fight, she thought with satisfaction as she spun and kicked and dodged and punched, heart pounding in her ears and each nerve of her body aflame. It was simplicity itself to fall back on her training and instincts, to focus on the singular goals of _attack_ and _defence_ until every last one of her foes was vanquished and she stood triumphant on the battlefield.

True to her prophetic words back in town, a paltry dozen bandits were no match for the combined—or separated—might of the Luminary’s sworn companions. She knocked the last one to the ground just as Hendrik incapacitated his final opponent with a well-aimed thrust. All was then quiet, except for the harsh breathing of the wounded and unconscious littering the floor of the cave. Even the rock itself had settled, the threat of falling stalactites seemingly passed.

As she and the knight approached each other, her pulse raced and her veins thrummed with adrenaline. The battle was over, but the burning desire for _conquest_ remained, and here before her was a _most_ delectable-looking prey. He stopped in front of her, shortsword and shield held loosely, his chest heaving and sweat dripping down his face. The relief there abruptly turned to wariness as she looked him over with lingering eyes, one hand on her cocked hip.

“Hendrik,” she purred, and wariness ratcheted up to outright alarm.

“P-Princess,” he stuttered, taking a half-step back as she advanced. But the writhing whispers in her head urged her onward and she would not be deterred; there was more than one way to bring a dog to heel, and this puppy was _well_ overdue for some serious training.

His breath sucked in sharply when she laid one languid hand on his chest, feeling the muscles bunched up beneath his tunic. The sword slipped from his fingers and fell to the rocky floor with a clatter. His glove jerked up to her bangled wrist, likely in some desperate attempt to stop her—but instead clutched at it weakly as he stood there, rooted to the spot.

“What a fine knight,” she said in a low voice, dark with promise. “So loyal, strong... _obedient._ ” His eyes grew impossibly wide as she leaned in closer. “Such dutiful service to the crown deserves a reward, does it not?”

“Princess, I—you—this—” He gasped again when her other hand went up to his jaw, and she revelled as much in the feeling of her nails scratching along his stubble as the fluttering of his eyelids in response.

“What’s the matter, Henny-Wenny?” she asked coyly. “Cat got your tongue? A pity—I can think of _much_ better uses for it.”

Her hand slid from his jaw to his shirt collar, and she tugged him down even as she pushed up on her toes. His face was inches away, eyes now hooded and lips parted as he panted through them. Her red-tinged gaze locked onto his mouth and she thought about the tantalizing hint she’d tasted there that morning, wondered how far in she could chase it.

She had just closed her eyes and lifted her head to find out, when his voice froze her: “Jade.”

Gentle fingers brushed the sweat-damp hair from her face, drifting featherlight to her shoulder. “Jade, you are not yourself,” he said, strained, imploring. “Awaken from this dream and come back to me. _Please._ ”

His words wormed their way somewhere deep inside her, deeper than the haze of seduction and possession and the mindless drive for pleasure. Her hands dropped from his shirt as she staggered back, and her world was suddenly consumed by incandescent flames.

Jade blinked rapidly as the smoke cleared and Hendrik came back into focus, worried eyes trained on hers. “Oh,” she said breathlessly, swaying slightly where she stood. “That was...”

She held up one hand to forestall his inevitable rush to ensure her safety. “It’s fine, Hendrik. I...I think I’m all right now.”

‘All right’ being a particularly relative term, she decided with utmost chagrin as the reality of the past several minutes crashed down upon her. She was no stranger to the battle lust that enveloped her when she invoked her powers, but generally it didn’t translate into...well, _actual_ lust on top of that. Even back in the comforting familiarity of her black and green clothing, a throbbing heat remained, coiling deep in her belly.

“Can I offer any assistance, Princess?” Hendrik asked anxiously, his brow in the usual furrow that appeared whenever she so much as stubbed her toe.

Jade considered that for a moment, discarding ‘Yes, would you mind if we kissed anyway? Just a little bit, you understand, enough to take the edge off’ as thoroughly unhelpful—and also likely to cause the man before her to keel over from one too many shocks in an eventful day.

“No,” she said instead. “Really, I’m fine.” She cleared her throat and raised her head, looking around the dim cave. “Why don’t we find our weapons and head back to Phnom Nonh? I think the bandit menace is thoroughly dealt with, and we can tell the townsfolk about the treasure.”

Hendrik readily agreed, and bent down to pick up the shortsword again before he turned away, clearly never very comfortable without at least _one_ weapon on hand at all times. Jade shook her head a bit as she adjusted her skirt, trying to dispel the stubborn fogginess that persisted after her Re-Vamp.

It was for this reason that she was a hair too late in seeing the dark flash at the edge of her vision. Before she could react, there was a merciless pull on her ponytail and a knee at her back, locking her in place. She instinctively struggled against the hold, hands scrabbling at her hair, but the unknown assailant’s grip tightened and she suddenly felt the sharp press of metal against her throat and went still.

Her cry of alarm had caught Hendrik’s attention and he whirled back around, automatically raising both sword and shield. When he took in the scene before him, all the air seemed to go out of him at once. She had seen many emotions on that expressive face of his over the years, but _nothing_ compared to the stark terror and rage that warred together now.

“ _You—_ ” he snarled, taking a vengeful step toward them.

“Ah ah ah!” a venomous voice hissed from right behind Jade, and her skin shuddered away from the rancid puff of air that accompanied it. “One wrong move and I’ll cut your little wifey open faster than you can say ‘Nhou Wat’.”

Hendrik froze, eyes helplessly flitting between Jade and her unseen captor. Despite the rush of blood pounding in her ears, something about the voice nagged her, something just on the edge of her memory from earlier—

“You’re that...cowardly thief...” she gasped, the blade scraping against her throat as she spoke. Her muscles strained from the unnatural position of the hold as she made another futile attempt to break free.

“Not so cowardly now, am I?” he replied in a smirking tone. His knee pressed harder against her back as he tugged on her hair and she hissed in pain, fists clenching. An agonized look came over Hendrik’s face and he made another involuntary step forward.

The knife lifted to just underneath her chin. “What did I just say?” the thief demanded. “Drop the sword—now.”

Before Jade could catch Hendrik’s eye, warn him not to make any rash decisions, the sword was already clanging onto the ground. His shield he still held limply in his other hand, for all the good that did.

“If you harm a single hair on her head...” Hendrik started, threat somewhat spoiled by the open fear in his voice.

“You’ll what?” the thief sneered. “You won’t do _nothin’_ , not with your precious little lady on the line.” She felt him coil her hair more firmly around his hand. “You heroes are all the same—that’s why I sent you two down here. I knew if I just waited long enough, _someone_ would come along and take care of these bandits for me. Then _I_ could take care of _them_ and keep all this lovely treasure for meself.”

“You’re mad,” Jade gritted out. “We’ll never let you get away with this!”

A short huff of laughter in her ear, and she cringed away from it. “Maybe _you_ won’t. You’re a tough one, sure enough. But your ’usband’s a right softie, I can tell.” His head turned slightly. “Pretty important to you, ain’t she?”

“More than anything in this world,” Hendrik rasped without hesitation. He met Jade’s eyes unwaveringly, a wealth of emotion within them.

“Aw, now if that ain’t the sweetest thing I’ve ’eard all week,” the thief said with a fake sniffle. He again pulled on Jade’s ponytail and his voice hardened. “Now this is what we’re going to do. I’ll walk you over to one of those cages, and then...”

Jade shifted her head back slightly to relieve the pressure on her screaming neck. She blinked furiously, eyes watering as much from the strain as the powerlessness of her situation. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, she was _never_ supposed to get captured again, at the mercy of someone else’s vile whims. She caught a glittering of gold from the treasure hoard at the side of her vision and shuddered away from it, casting her gaze upward instead, to see—

Her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes snapped back down to Hendrik’s face and she tried to catch his attention without alerting the thief, who was still droning on behind her about his ridiculous scheme, which now apparently involved the use of tamed Brollygaggers to help haul the loot out of the cave.

Hendrik frowned when he noticed her looking at him with sudden intensity. Jade jerked her eyes upward with an exaggerated motion and he followed them with a tilt of his head. All at once his gaze dropped back to hers, widening with dismay. He shook his head slightly, obviously refusing to even consider her implied plan. She clenched her teeth in frustration. It wasn’t that she didn’t _understand_ his reluctance; for all his training in Magical Mending, he still had not learned any form of Zing. If something were to go wrong and he couldn’t heal her in time...

Eyes locked onto his, she implored him as best she could without words: _You’ve always been there for me. We can do this—together. Trust me. Please._

Jade saw his chest rise with the deep breath he took, body tense with the agony of indecision. Then his face hardened and he nodded the slightest fraction. A whisper of relief wound through her before she steeled herself for action.

“...and _then_ we’ll be able to charter a ship along the coast,” the thief was saying. “There’s an island I have in mind for the first hideout, but it’ll have to be moved before long, as I think the mermaids are causin’ trouble around that area. Any questions?”

“None,” Hendrik replied, gloved hand tightening on his shield. “Only _this_.”

With a mighty heave, he threw the shield straight upward, aiming for an enormous stalactite that hung by a rocky thread to the ceiling high above. There was a loud _thunk_ as it made contact, followed by a foreboding rumble.

Jade felt the instant the thief’s attention was torn away from her. The pressure of the knife at her throat eased even as his knee went slack against her back. Her hands flew to his arm slung across her collarbone and she grabbed hold, wrenching both it and the blade away from her as she ducked down and used the momentum of the drop to pull the thief off-balance. He cried out as she lurched forward and used his body weight against him, flipping him over her back and tossing him into the air—just in time to collide with the hard surface of the stalactite, crashing to the floor only feet away.

Her panting breath sounded loud in her ears in the sudden silence of the cave, broken only by the steady rainfall outside. Then Hendrik was at her side, hands already raised to cast his spell. She looked with some surprise at the large cut across her arm that she hadn’t even realized she’d sustained; with a burst of light, it knitted together before her eyes, as if it had never been.

“Princess!” His hands still hovered and his gaze roved over her with worry, searching for other unknown wounds. “How fare you?”

“Just fine, thanks to your excellent aim,” Jade complimented him as she stretched out her aching muscles. “I knew I could count on you to come through, Sir Hendrik.”

She glanced over with narrowed eyes at the thief; he was sprawled out beneath the wreckage of the stalactite, completely senseless. A stray hunk of rubble quivered and then fell, bouncing off his cowled head before landing on the floor. “It’s almost a wonder our friend never saw it coming,” she continued. “Armed or not, who would ever think it a good idea to threaten a man as imposing as you?”

Once assured of Jade’s health, safety, and presumed happiness, some of the tension had drained out of Hendrik. He also turned to the thief, staring down at the man with iron contempt in his gaze.

“A fool alone would cross a knight,” he said coldly. “But he who dares assault a knight’s _lady_ well deserves the wrath of her righteous...recip-rock-ation.”

No blame to her, it took the span of several heartbeats for that to properly register. Her gaze jerked up to Hendrik’s, mouth open in disbelief. A flush was already spreading up his neck, his eyes wide with horror as they met hers.

After a day like the one she’d just had, there was simply no helping it: Jade doubled over with laughter, the sound spilling out of her and echoing through the large cave.

“You finally discover a sense of humour after all these years and decide to use it for _that?_ ” she demanded, hands on her knees as she gasped for breath.

Hendrik was more aghast than she’d ever heard him. “I...I deeply apologize,” he said in a strangled voice. “I do not know what could _possibly_ have come over me...”

Jade straightened again, wiping at her eyes. “I think the stress is getting to you, Hendrik,” she told him, another helpless giggle escaping her. “We’d better finish up here so you can go back to your more relaxing hobbies, like fighting dragons and lifting boulders.”

Red-faced with mortification, Hendrik jumped at the chance to do something— _anything_ —other than focus on his temporary lapse into madness. They retrieved their weapons from underneath a large tarp and then turned their attention to the unconscious bandits. It took the better part of half an hour to move them all to the various cells scattered around the cave, to remain until the people of Phnom Nonh decided what to do with them.

“Are you prepared to leave, Princess?” Hendrik asked her as she dusted off her gloved hands and strapped her claws to her belt once more. A stubborn blush still clung to his neck, and she had found herself idly thinking of all _sorts_ of interesting ways she might encourage its spread.

“Almost,” Jade said, striding over to the pile of treasure along the far wall. There was far too much in all to take with them; the townsfolk would need to devise their own methods of retrieval, once the good news was shared. But she did dig around for a moment in a pile of gold coins until she found what she was looking for: two ivory combs, inlaid with jade. She stuffed them in her pack and rose to her feet again.

“Ready,” she told Hendrik with a nod. They covered themselves in their cloaks and returned to the ever-persistent rain.


	4. One Good Yearn Deserves Another

“I am not sure I understand you, I think so.”

Jade blinked at the stout mayor of Phnom Nonh. He stared back at her, equally puzzled as he scratched at his head. The steady drizzle outside could be heard from the open doorway of his office, the night-darkened building lit by the misty glow of street lanterns. They had gone there immediately upon their return to town, eager to inform him of their success.

She cleared her throat and tried again.

“The treasure,” Jade said slowly, not certain if she’d somehow misspoken. “What Avarith took from you and the other townsfolk. We know you weren’t able to retrieve it due to the bandits, so we decided to go after them.”

“With excellent results,” Hendrik added from right behind her. “The menace is imprisoned and your roads should be safe once more.”

The mayor still looked confused, and Jade began to have some serious reservations about his qualifications for public office.

“I am glad to hear of the bandits—though in truth, they did not much trouble us,” he told the knight and princess. “But the treasure was theirs for the taking, yes? Your young friend told you as much, did he not?”

Jade turned to glance at Hendrik, who seemed just as baffled as she. “Our young friend?”

“Yes!” the mayor nodded eagerly. “The one with the magnificent hair!”

“I don’t understand,” Jade said, feeling like she must have been hit on the head by a stalactite after all. “What does _he_ have to do with any of this? And...‘theirs for the taking’? Why in the world would you let someone else have all your wealth?”

The mayor leaned forward and made an energetic gesture at her. “After the people returned from their capture, we held a town meeting, I think so. There was much to discuss in the aftermath of both the mural and the fiend.” His other hand joined in to sketch the scene in the air, not altogether successfully. “As one, we decided to start afresh, leaving behind our riches and forging ahead to create a _new_ Phnom Nonh, prouder and more prosperous than before!”

“You...you didn’t _want_ it back?” she asked incredulously. “Even with everything you’ve been through? But it could help people— _your_ people!”

“Yes—our _people_ ,” the mayor nodded sagely, as if agreeing with some profound point she’d made. “Because it _is_ the people that matter, not the things, I think so.”

He paused, looking over his two flummoxed guests. “I was sure I had explained this to your friend months ago when he expressed the same concerns, yes? Did he not tell you this?”

Jade heard Hendrik let out a long breath, and knew without looking that he was rubbing his forehead with one hand. “Truthfully, sir, he is rather...taciturn, at the best of times.”

For her part, she was still processing the absolute _absurdity_ of this entire affair. “So, we didn’t actually do _anything_ to help in the end,” she realized, feeling rather like the wind had been knocked out of her sails. “You didn’t want your treasure anymore, and the bandits weren’t bothering you because they already _had_ all your treasure.”

“Ah, miss,” the mayor said soothingly, reaching out to pat her hand. “It is possible that the bandits may have become a problem in the future, yes? This is thrice now that some of your company have selflessly tried to help our humble town! Please allow me to show our gratitude tonight, at one of our many fine establishments, I think so.”

He then beamed at the both of them, his arms spread with enthusiasm. “And where we will also celebrate your recent nuptials, of course!”

When they were outside again—after repeated promises to at least make an _appearance_ at the impromptu party—Jade turned to Hendrik. “Well, so much for being heroes, I suppose,” she sighed, pulling the hood of her cloak over her hair again. “I have to confess, their reasoning is quite beyond me. Why on Erdrea would they not want their most cherished belongings back?”

Her companion was pensive as he looked out into the rainy night. “I think I understand,” he said quietly.

“You do?” she asked with some surprise. It wasn’t that Hendrik was unintelligent, but an incisive scholar of human nature, he _definitely_ was not.

“Yes,” he replied simply, and elaborated no further. He looked down at her, his own cloak performing its job as feebly as ever. “Shall we make our way to the tavern, Princess? I believe the mayor said it was on the second level of town.”

She paused a moment, then shook her head. “You go on ahead. I’ve got something I’d like to take care of first.”

A few minutes later, Jade was standing under the awning of a large house, tapping quietly on the door. She pulled back her hood and idly adjusted her hair ribbon as she waited for an answer. She had just begun to worry about the lateness of the hour when the door finally opened and the old woman stood before her, looking out curiously.

“I’m sorry for disturbing you,” Jade apologized with a small smile. “I hope it isn’t too late.”

“No, miss, I am up at all hours these days,” the woman said, waving her into the house. Jade accepted the invitation and stepped just inside the entrance, fidgeting slightly as she tried not to drip water everywhere. It appeared to be a living area, warm and cozy and filled with comfortable-looking furniture and shelves stuffed with keepsakes. Incense burned somewhere, a heady, drowsy scent.

“May I offer you a cup of tea?” the woman asked her, gesturing over to what was presumably the kitchen.

“No, that’s quite all right,” Jade declined as she fumbled with the pack at her side. “I just wanted to stop by and give you—these.” She retrieved the ivory combs and held them out to the old woman.

The woman’s eyes widened and her mouth opened slightly as she reached out with tentative hands to accept them. She turned them over slowly, looking down with a gaze suddenly gone far away.

“I know now that you made a choice not to take them back,” Jade said softly, her eyes misty as she watched the woman’s reverent examination. “But they seemed so important to you, that I...I wanted to be sure.”

“Many memories they hold, I think so,” the old woman agreed. The jade inlays flashed as they reflected the dim candlelight of the room. “Many years of happiness and love, no matter the end.”

She looked up, her gaze serious. “I thank you for this gift,” she told Jade. Then she pressed the combs back into the startled princess’s hands and closed her fingers over them. “But I must insist that _you_ keep them, instead.”

“I can’t possibly take them,” Jade protested. “They were your wedding present!”

The woman’s eyes crinkled around the edges with her smile. “And now they are yours, to celebrate your own marriage.”

It was finally all too much. Jade had spent the past sixteen years of her life dodging and manipulating the truth for her own survival, but she could no longer endure the weight of this lie, knotting heavily in the back of her throat.

“We’re not...we’re not actually married,” she confessed, dropping her eyes from the old woman’s. “It was just something that helped us after we got stranded here, and then it...rather got away from me. I’m sorry.”

There was silence for a time, the rain pattering on steadily outside the house’s thin walls. Jade finally risked a hesitant glance upward, fearing the possibility of the kindly old woman’s anger—or even worse, disappointment.

To her astonishment, the look that lay on that ancient face was _amused_. The woman reached out and gave Jade’s wrist a comforting pat, much as the mayor had done. “Ah, so you are both still stuck in _that_ stage,” she said with a chuckle. “It is no great matter—the combs will be patient, I think so.”

Jade, small blame to her after the trials she’d borne that day, did not entirely know how to respond. “I...I’m not sure...”

“Keep them,” the old woman said firmly. She closed Jade’s fingers over the combs once more and then gestured up toward the ribbon in her hair. “These things we carry from the past—they have meaning only as they travel with us into the future, yes? I have no need to mourn what is gone, when another might instead find joy in what is beginning.”

“Oh,” Jade whispered, feeling rather overcome by something she could not name. She met the woman’s eyes and returned her smile, wholeheartedly this time.

Afterward, as she hurried off down the slick cobblestone streets—following two more politely declined offers of tea—she thought that maybe, like Hendrik, she _also_ finally understood the town’s decision.

 

* * *

 

The tavern was lit by an overwhelming array of colourful lanterns: hanging from the ceiling, draped along the walls, set on scattered tables. Their sudden assault on Jade’s senses as she entered was rivalled only by the noise from the musicians playing in one corner of the large room. Bartenders and servers were kept constantly on the go with patrons’ orders, and it looked to her like half the _town_ had apparently been told about the event.

Before she’d taken two steps, the mayor popped up at her elbow, almost startling her into a preemptive attack.

“You have arrived, miss!” he said joyfully. “I am very glad for this! Here, here, let me take your cloak.”

She handed it over before turning back to the crowded room. It shouldn’t have been _too_ difficult to find a man who stood head and shoulders above most of the citizenry—of _any_ town, really—but somehow he eluded her. Was it possible he’d taken one look at the busy tavern and absconded back to the inn?

“If you seek your husband, I believe he is at the back of the room,” the mayor smiled, waving her onward. “Drinks are on us for the evening, so you should well enjoy yourself, I think so!”

Jade peered in the direction he’d gestured and started to make her way over, excusing herself whenever she bumped into another person (which was often). Finally there was a break in the crowd, and she eagerly looked through to see—

She froze in place as her stomach plummeted down to her very toes.

Hendrik was sitting at a small table, surrounded by no fewer than half a dozen young, attentive, _very_ attractive women. They were all smiles and winsome giggles, and even from this distance Jade could see the redness on his face as he stumbled over unheard words.

Her hands balled up into tight fists. She had left him alone for _thirty minutes_ and he’d somehow managed to gather up a gaggle of admirers—at what was supposed to be a party celebrating his alleged _marriage_ , no less. She tried to tell herself that it was the thoughtless indiscretion that bothered her most; but lies were coming less and less easily to her tonight, and the sudden, painful thumping of her heart proved more than anything just where her real objections lay.

The steel abruptly jolted back into her spine and she straightened. Was she a warrior—a _princess_ —or wasn’t she? It was many years she’d spent learning how to hold onto what was most important to her, whatever the cost. Jade resumed her course, heels snapping crisply on the stone floor.

As she got closer, one of the women’s excited voices came to her: “...what I have heard of her looks, it must have been love at first sight, I think so!” Jade found herself again stuttering to a halt just beside a lanterned pillar, her eyes widening as she listened in.

She heard Hendrik cough. “Very...very nearly,” he replied, remarkably less strained than she had expected. “I have travelled much of the world in my years, and have never found her equal in beauty.”

There was a chorus of ‘awww’s from the group. Unable to resist the temptation, Jade slipped around to the other side of the pillar so she could finally get a good look at his face. He seemed flustered by the reaction from his rapt audience and looked down at his drink bashfully, ungloved hand tightening around it.

Another of the women leaned toward Hendrik. Astonishingly, she angled her body so that her cleavage was _concealed_ from his view. Jade almost couldn’t believe her eyes; had that _ever_ happened to him at _any_ point in the past two decades?

“Well, sir,” the woman said with a sly smile, “I trust you did not wait long to snap her up, yes?”

Hendrik’s throat bobbed in a swallow. “The World Tree’s fall changed many things—for both of us,” he replied, eyes serious as he looked up again. “There seems...but little sense in waiting or denying our own wishes any longer.”

If _this_ made Jade feel as though a strong kick had knocked the breath right out of her, then she could only compare the _next_ moment to the equivalent of a troll club slamming into her chest. Hendrik’s habitual surveyance of his surroundings suddenly alerted him to her presence, and he immediately pushed back his chair and rose to his feet.

“Ah, there you are, beloved,” he said to her, with a hesitance so subtle she was _sure_ she was the only one to hear it. Then, he extended toward her one large, slightly trembling hand.

The riotous fluttering in Jade’s stomach almost threatened to overwhelm her as she stared at Hendrik. There were faint lines of stress about his face, but his eyes were soft as they met hers—an invitation and an offering all at the same time.

She took it.

“Sorry I’m late, darling,” Jade said as she joined him, shivering at his warmth as their fingers intertwined. An irresistible mischief overtook her and she pushed up on her toes to peck his cheek, noting the sudden flush of colour there with delight. This prompted another loud ‘awww’ from the women around them, and his blush deepened. Jade turned with a smile, hand firmly clasped in his. “Won’t you introduce me to your friends?”

Jade learned very quickly that the people of Phnom Nonh evidently made up in enthusiasm what they now lacked in wealth. The drinks flowed, the lanterns sparkled, the younger folk danced, and the elders laughed and talked. When the musicians grew weary, there was no shortage of volunteers to pick up their slack, and the party continued into the drizzly night.

One novelty of her supposed status was that, for the first time in at least six years, Jade received not a single proposition or unwelcome compliment all evening. Normally a visit to a tavern resigned her to rationing her drinks and—if _really_ unlucky—proving her disinterest with her fists; but Hendrik’s intimidating presence deterred even those patrons drunk enough to _imagine_ hitting on a married woman, and she was freer to enjoy herself than she had been in a very long time.

“Hendrik, did you say something to that armour merchant?” she demanded at one point, after the terrified man in question had tripped over an entire chair in his efforts to stay away from her.

“Nothing less than he deserved,” Hendrik replied as he glared coldly at the shopkeeper. Despite repeated appeals—and a frankly _devastating_ batting of her eyelashes—he refused to elaborate on that point. Rather than bothered by this seeming protectiveness, she finally saw it as _he_ always must have: partnership. Having her back, the way he trusted her to have his. The way it _should_ be.

Everyone seemed to want to ply drinks on the heroic newlyweds, and they probably accepted more than was good for them. Bazza—one of the people they’d saved from the mural—offered Hendrik a fizzing concoction so potent that his eyes welled up and he doubled over in a coughing fit.

“It can’t be _that_ bad,” Jade objected as the wheezing Hendrik wiped his face with a borrowed handkerchief. She pulled the glass toward herself and took a curious sniff.

He scrambled at once in a futile attempt to grab it from her. “Have a care, b-beloved!” he choked out. “The staircases outside are well slick with rain, and I fear the possibility of your..."

Hendrik trailed off as she tilted her head back and drank without breaking eye contact. Bazza and his friends laughed and cheered when she finally slammed the empty cup down on the table.

“See? Not bad at all,” she said, and the scorching fire that burned in her throat was _well_ worth it to see the look on Hendrik’s face.

They were applied to for details on their romance, of course—mostly by eager women. Jade’s fabrications grew more and more elaborate until a vein started throbbing in Hendrik’s forehead and he seemed in danger of combusting entirely. After that, she took pity on him and deflected, asking about people’s dreams and ambitions instead: their vision of a new Phnom Nonh, unburdened by the troubles of the past.

Mordegon, their friends, the urgent quest that drove them onward—they all felt very far away that rainy night. Jade laughed and talked and teased and drank; and through it all, her hand remained exactly where it wanted to be, interlocked with his.

 

* * *

 

She stumbled over the top step of the inn’s porch, and again at the threshold of the front door. Then, just to complete the set, she managed to trip over her own two feet on the completely level surface of the taproom floor.

“Princess!” Hendrik rushed to her side and grabbed her by the arms, hauling her back upright. Jade blinked at him, momentarily confused by the use of her title; he had been all ‘beloved’ this and ‘my wife’ that throughout the evening, and she’d grown rather...well, _used_ to it. She shook her head, determined to return to the matter at hand—whether there had even _been_ a matter before this or not.

“I know what you’re going to say,” she declared with an imperious wave, “and I want to state, for the record, that I am _not_ drunk.”

She paused a moment, thinking hard. “And seeing as you’re the only one with quill and inkpot, I suppose _you_ are the record,” she added. “So...be sure to write that down.”

“Of course, Princess,” he replied with a suspicious twitching of his lips. “Though I am compelled to point out that you kept pace with me admirably tonight, and seeing as _I_ must confess to some moderate amount of inebriation—”

Jade scoffed in outrage as she planted both hands on her hips, swaying only a little with the gesture. “Are you calling me a lightweight?”

Hendrik raised his eyebrows at her. “In very literal terms, yes, Your Highness.”

“Well, what do _you_ weigh?” she demanded. “It can’t be _that_ much more than me, can it?”

He told her.

She goggled at him. Her gaze dropped to his substantial legs, studying them with interest. “Really? How in the world do you keep yourself upright?”

“A discussion for another time, perhaps,” he said, tugging on one of her arms with polite knightly insistence. She grumbled as she let him pull off her cloak before leading her over to the stairwell, deciding that she hadn’t so much _lost_ the argument as graciously _ceded_ it, in an effort to promote harmony within their common purpose.

The stairs proved to be their own sort of challenge—an insurmountable one, by Jade’s extremely clear-headed assessment. She almost shrank back as they loomed above her, seeming to connect not to the second floor of the inn and its wonderfully soft beds, but to the moon, perhaps—or even Erdwin’s Lantern.

“I...I wonder if Parsi would be terribly angered by my sleeping in the taproom instead,” she said somewhat faintly. “There’s nothing improper about that, is there? Look, Hendrik, I don’t—”

She let out a small shriek when she was swept into the air, scooped up by a pair of strong—muscular; powerful; wonderful; _horribly yellow_ —arms and nestled against a chest that was as likely to have been chiselled from orichalcum as not.

“Hendrik,” Jade gasped, her hands scrabbling up his tunic until they reached the safety of his neck and clung there. “Could you—could you please _warn_ me next time before you do that?”

“My apologies, Princess,” he rumbled as he looked down at her contritely. “It seemed to me the wisest course of action.”

“I’m not saying it was a _bad_ one,” she hummed, suddenly distracted by the warmth of the skin just above his shirt collar. “Definitely, _definitely_ not saying that.”

He cleared his throat, and she felt the movement of it beneath her fingertips. “Are you ready to ascend?”

“As I’ll ever be,” she sighed. Hendrik adjusted her in his arms—apparently finding her about as burdensome as an avabranche, or even a flurry feather—and started to climb.

It took the space of two steps for Jade to realize the interesting possibilities that had opened up with this newfound proximity to his face and neck. In another two, she had pulled herself closer with a determined effort, scooching up within his hold until her nose bumped the side of his throat. She inhaled deeply for a moment; then she rubbed against him in a decided _nuzzle_.

Hendrik stuttered to a halt halfway up the staircase. “Princess.”

“ _You’re_ the one who decided to pick me up—in a bridal carry, I’ll point out.” A giggle almost escaped her lips, but she valiantly contained it. “What I do once I’m here is my _own_ business.”

His hard swallow worked its way down his throat. Rather than call her out on how little sense she suspected she’d just made, he merely nodded. “As...you wish.”

Well, as far as Jade was concerned, that was basically a _carte blanche_ for whatever her nuzzling heart desired, as they said at L’Académie de...something-something. She quickly discarded the thought from her mind before that infernal song got stuck in her head. It was very easy right now to toss out the things she did not want to think about, and easier still to close her eyes and press her face into his neck, breathing in everything wonderfully _Hendrik_.

It was with dim awareness that she noticed the storm had returned, distant thunder accompanying the knight’s heavy steps on the staircase. Rain fell in a torrent outside the inn’s open balconies when they reached the lobby, deserted at this late hour. Probably best for everyone, Jade decided; goodness knew Parsi would doubtless tack on some ‘inappropriate public snuggling’ surcharge if she saw them.

Hendrik shifted Jade’s weight over to one arm as he fumbled with the key at their door (where had he even gotten it from? Had _she_ given it to him? She honestly could not remember) and it finally clicked open. Their room was dark inside, lit only by the faint glow of lanterns beyond the shutters and the occasional flash of lightning. Her arms tightened around his neck when he adjusted her again, unbuckling their weapons from their belts and shucking off his boots before stepping over to the bed.

She stirred to alertness once more when he gently laid her down on the mattress, as much from the memory of their _last_ encounter there as the sudden feel of his ungloved fingers at her knee. Her hands slipped down to his shoulders and she watched through hooded eyes as he began to unlace her boot.

“What are you doing?” she murmured.

“The mud, Princess.” He kept his eyes trained on his hands as he worked. “I would not wish to spoil the sheets.”

There was something shivering, _intoxicating_ about the reality of Hendrik’s undressing her, even with an act as simple as removing her mud-caked footwear. Her fingers trailed across his shoulders and back as he carefully worked off the first boot, his weight then settling on the bed when he turned his attention to the other.

Jade could not resist the temptation—truthfully, did not even _try_ —when he shifted slightly and his hair fell in front of his eyes. Her hands lifted to those silky strands and she pushed her fingers through them, brushing against his scalp. He paused with a shudder, and she saw his eyes squeeze shut a moment before he returned to her laces with a shaking touch. She repeated the motion, nails now scraping lightly, and the air went out of him with a harsh breath.

As soon as her second boot was off, her hands slid to the back of his neck and she pulled him closer, _closer_ , until he rested heavily on his elbows above her. His face was inches away, eyes cloudy with drink and dark with...something _else_.

“Do you seek to provoke me, Princess?” he asked in a low voice.

“No, I’m trying to seduce you,” she breathed. “Is it working?”

“ _Yes_ ,” he whispered, and the ragged sound of it sent a rush of heat coiling straight down to her core.

She shifted beneath him and licked her lips, thrilling at the way his eyes snapped down to her mouth. His breathing had grown laboured and she could feel the tremor in his arms where they lay on either side of her.

“I want you to kiss me, Hendrik,” she said to him, giving up her desire as an offering to do with as he pleased. She could cajole, convince, _compel,_ and knew that he would obey ( _like a good boy_ ); but these past two days she had pushed through every wall that had lain between them for months, and nothing could be more important to her than that _this_ one was felled by his choice alone.

Jade watched as the battle he fought with himself played out across his face. His agonized gaze flitted between her eyes and her mouth, jaw tense with indecision. Then he dipped his head down, achingly tentative, and pressed his lips to hers.

The kiss was infinitely soft and trembling, a brush of warmth against her skin. By the time her eyes had fluttered closed he was already pulling away again, and she opened them back up to see worry within his, the fear that he had somehow done wrong; to her, to his country, even against the Knight’s Pledge, for all she knew. It wasn’t exactly _specific_ about the ‘adversity’ part, was it?

Well, if he needed reassurance that he was serving his kingdom _most_ satisfyingly, it was her duty to provide it. She smiled at him, small but sure, and then tightened her hands around his neck and tugged him back down. The next kiss was longer and more confident, and the one after that more heated still. Then Jade urged his mouth open to stroke her tongue against his, and things got downright _feral_.

His beard scraped deliciously against her skin as their lips met again and again. She swallowed his gasps and chased the alcohol on his breath, trying to get past it to find that tantalizing taste uniquely _him_. His hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists on the sheets and her own tangled into his hair, twisting and pulling.

She felt good; she felt better than good, she felt _incredible_ , and she didn’t know if it was more the drink (because fine, she _was_ rather drunk, if it must be admitted) or the feel of his hot mouth on hers causing the lightheadedness that threatened to sweep her away. Each caress of his tongue shot straight down to the growing ache between her legs, and she knew she could not stand to deny it for long.

In the interests of keeping herself grounded—a crucial quality for any trained warrior—Jade shifted further into the bed and insistently pulled him along with her. He followed, single-minded in his determination not to give up access to her mouth, and finally climbed fully onto the mattress beside her. As soon as she felt his weight settle she seized her chance: her legs wrapped around his waist in a vise-like grip and she pulled sharply down.

Hendrik’s broken moan when their hips pressed together was quite possibly the most electrifying sound she had ever heard in her life. She could feel the throbbing hardness of him through his trousers as he thrust helplessly against her core, so much more thrilling on _this_ side of her body than from behind. Arboreal thoughts flashed wildly through her head again.

“Princess,” Hendrik panted, hooded eyes dark with equal parts shock and lust. “Your...your boldness is...”

“Not befitting of a lady?” Jade asked breathlessly. “I’ve heard that one before.” She rocked her hips against him and gasped at the jolt of pleasure that coursed through her. Hendrik dropped his face to her neck, muffling his groan against her flushed skin.

“If it’s the impropriety that’s troubling you, I think we can technically count this as our marital bed,” she suggested with a delirious huff of laughter, fingertips digging into his scalp again. He shook his head against her throat—probably in some form of noble disapproval, knowing him—and then his mouth moved against her, sucking a mark just below her jaw.

The storm raged on outside as they rocked together on the bed, meeting each other thrust for thrust. Her heels dug into his back while one of Hendrik’s hands dropped to her thigh, stroking and squeezing. His lips stayed at her neck where they nuzzled and nipped at her skin until she began to feel quite mad, and finally she grabbed his face and pulled him back up for a devouring kiss.

Nothing could have prepared her for what it felt like to have this enormous man on top of her, surrounding her, grinding against her with his rasping breaths puffing into her mouth. His desire was almost overwhelming—his desire for _her_ , away from the gleaming lights and alluring outfits and sultry promises. Each stuttered ‘princess’ that spilled from his lips sent a rush of warmth through her body, because it _did_ have meaning coming from him, a world of meaning that only he could ever put into it.

What _was_ the point in denying anything anymore? Wasn’t it better to grab what happiness they could? They had all lost so much; surely they had earned this, just for a little while. His mouth moved over hers, heated and soft, and everything else dropped away as she focused on his touch, his passion, and _let go_.

Jade dimly began to realize just how restrictive all this inconvenient clothing was and decided to take matters into her own hands (and frankly, _any_ excuse to divest him of that horrid sweater was worth jumping on). She gently pushed Hendrik away and reached up for her halter, fingers fumbling at the buckle. He watched, eyes suddenly gone wide, as she finally—after taking twice as long as usual—pulled it open with a triumphant smirk and then turned to the back, arching slightly so she could reach the laces.

“Princess.”

She froze at the sound of his voice, very far removed from the gasping moan he’d _last_ spoken that word with. She glanced upward, stomach already dropping at what she knew she’d see there.

As expected, his gaze was troubled once more. He swallowed thickly as he looked down at her. “I fear...that we are both far gone with drink at present,” he began in that same infuriatingly serious tone.

“Hendrik,” she groaned, flopping back down on the mattress in alcohol-induced despair. “ _Please_ don’t do this, not now.”

“Forgive me,” he said quietly. “It would be...the worst dereliction of my duty to allow us to continue past this point.”

Jade squeezed her eyes shut to avoid having to see the helpless combination of sadness and lust on his face. _Frustration_ and lust was a lot closer to her own emotional cocktail, and her body thrummed with unsated desires. “Why must you always be _such_ a knight?” she sighed, trying to decide which part of the Pledge she could blame _this_ one on.

“It...it is not only that...” She was startled when she felt his fingers brush along her jaw. Hendrik’s hands moved over her cheeks to cradle her face in a careful grip, his forehead dropping to hers.

“If you were to regret this in the morning,” he whispered hoarsely, his own eyes now shut tight, “I...I do not know if I could ever...”

Even through the haze of alcohol and sexual frustration, she suddenly understood. _Loss;_ what drove him onward, what held him back. To share this with her—one exquisitely perfect night—only for it to all come crumbling down afterward...he would not be able to live with that. He _could_ not. The risk was simply too great, no matter what reassurances she gave.

Her hands went up to his neck, stroking his nape with gentle fingers. “All right,” she said softly.

His eyes fluttered open and met hers, searching. Relief came over his face at what he saw there and he let out a long breath. He drew back and she expected him to roll off her, already missing the warmth and weight of him; but he surprised her when he instead dipped his head back down, as if unable to resist the temptation, and brought their lips together in one more slow, searing kiss. She returned it ardently, grip tightening around his shoulders.

They eventually broke off for air, staring at each other through half-lidded eyes.

“You aren’t doing the best job of convincing me you want to stop,” Jade gasped out as her fingers twitched against his collar.

Hendrik groaned and finally rolled off her, landing on the mattress beside her with a _thwump_. He brought one shaking hand up to cover his face. “A grave...lapse in judgement,” he said in a strangled voice. “Forgive me...”

“I’ll think about it.” She shifted onto her side and her eyes swept over his body, lingering on the _sizeable_ tent in his trousers; there was an answering throb between her own legs, and her hips squirmed restlessly.

Despite her stubborn arousal, Jade felt a vast reluctance at the thought of letting Hendrik return to a pallet on the floor after all this. Never one to turn her back on a truly terrible idea, she smiled. “That is, I’ll think about forgiving you, _if_ you stay here with me tonight.”

The hand jerked down from his face. “Princess?” he asked, not a little alarmed.

“Stay with me tonight, Hendrik,” she repeated, toying with the sheet beneath her fingers. “Nothing more than that, I promise. I’ve never yet groped anyone in my sleep, which is more than _some_ of us can boast.”

Even in the dim light of the room, she could see the heightened flush on his face. “I...am not certain that would be the wisest course of...”

She leaned forward and unleashed her full arsenal of winsome charm on the knight, stopping just short of an outright puff-puff. “ _Please_.”

He stared helplessly at her, his face the very picture of a general who knew when the battle was lost and retreat impossible. “...As you wish,” he finally managed.

Jade shuffled over before he could change his mind, curling into his side and relishing the return of his comforting warmth. For his sake—and hers—she took care not to let leg _or_ arm stray near any dangerous areas, not wanting to push her luck when she finally had him (mostly) right where she wanted him.

Again Hendrik surprised her when he tugged his arm out from underneath and wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling her more securely against him. She sighed and contentedly laid her head on his chest. Thanks to his significant musculature, the overall effect was somewhat like trying to cuddle a Living Statue; but the day’s events seemed to catch up with her all at once, and she found her eyelids drooping regardless. After a moment, she lifted her hand and fumbled around on his chest, seeking and finding his steadying heartbeat.

“Do such actions not go against your recent vow?” came his quiet voice from above.

“Perhaps—but I still won’t let you leave,” she yawned, eyes drifting shut. “You’re an excellent vanquisher of nightmares, Sir Hendrik.”

She felt him brush a featherlight kiss to her hair. “The result of many years’ practice, Princess Jade.”

The meaning of this escaped her, unconsciousness only seconds away. “Good night, Hendrik,” she whispered. If he had a reply, it was lost in the sound of the distant thunder and steady rain, echoing off the high cliffs of the sleeping town.

 

* * *

 

Jade dreamt of gold.

But for once, it was not the gold of that glittering den of hedonism. She saw it a thousand other places instead: the reflection of the sun on tranquil waters; a sandy beach stretching from one horizon to the other; a field of wheat blowing gently in the wind; clouds scattered across the sky at dusk.

She dreamt of gold and she was at peace, for this gold belonged to a world she strove toward, fought for, had to believe she would someday achieve. And when she did, she would visit every last one of these golden places, steadfast companions by her side.

She would be _happy_.

 

* * *

 

It was the unusual brightness that woke her. As soon as her eyes began to perceive it, she squeezed them shut, the light like daggers stabbing into her head.

Unfortunately for Jade, the stabbing not only persisted but even increased, morphing into a relentless pounding that seemed intent on drilling holes through her skull. She groaned as she flung a pillow over her face, wishing for a swift death with all the earnestness of the recently-drunk.

The thought of drunkenness sparked a memory. She flung out a hand onto the bed beside her, patting the mattress unseeingly. When she found nothing but cool, empty sheets, she frowned and rolled over. The pillow was tossed to the headboard and she took a deep breath before cracking open her eyes the slightest bit. A few hundred more knives joined in on the assault, but she gritted her teeth and persisted until she was finally able to blearily look around the dim room.

Empty. And wherever he was, he’d apparently left some time ago.

Not having a wealth of leads on that front, her attention turned to the wooden shutters on the windows. Light poured in through the cracks and she could hear birdsong somewhere outside. It was not exactly sunshine—very little _was_ , these days—but the storm finally appeared to be over.

Jade had just decided to at least _attempt_ sitting up when she was distracted by the sound of the door clicking open. She stilled and her eyes flew toward it as Hendrik walked into the room.

He seemed unsurprised to see her awake, and his expression was unreadable as he walked toward the bed, a pitcher and glass in his hands. She watched as he stopped by the bedside table and poured out a generous cup of water before offering it to her. “Here, Your Highness.”

She pushed herself up on one elbow and accepted the glass. “Thanks,” she said, shocked at how feeble her voice sounded. Hendrik placed the jug on the table and stepped back a respectful distance as she drank deeply, wincing at the coldness. Where in the world did they keep their well—Sniflheim?

“I think...that’s a _little_ better,” Jade sighed after she finished. She tried to place the cup on the table beside the jug and missed; Hendrik leapt forward and managed to catch it before it hit the floor.

“I take it you are feeling somewhat indisposed, Princess?” he asked her.

Her eyes narrowed at his suspiciously-neutral face. “That had better not be a _smile_ you’re trying to conceal, Hendrik.”

“I would sooner impale myself upon my own sword,” he replied gravely.

She let out another groan and fell back down to the mattress. The water had helped a bit, but it would probably take the better part of the morning to get over this headache. Why, oh _why_ , had she ever thought she could keep pace with Hendrik’s drinking? Hadn’t she realized how much more he _weighed?_

“Hendrik, can’t you—” Jade waved her hands in a pitiful approximation of spell-casting.

He poured out another cup of water and left it on the table. “My apologies, Princess. I have not yet discovered a magical remedy to cure the common hangover.”

“I suppose I’ll have to ask Serena,” she mumbled. She pressed the heels of her wrists against her eyes in an attempt to relieve the pressure. “Although I’m not sure there’s even a single fermented drink _in_ that entire town.”

Hendrik cleared his throat. “Speaking of the priestess...” Jade looked up again.

“I spoke with the father of that travelling family downstairs,” he informed her. “It appears that with the passing of the storm, the Zoom pathways are fully operational once more. In all likelihood, our companions will be joining us sometime this morning.”

Jade sat up quickly, immediately regretted it, then stayed there anyway. “Well, that’s _some_ good news!”

“Indeed,” Hendrik agreed. “But if they still have not made an appearance by midday, I suggest we leave word here and make for Puerto Valor, that we may be better positioned to glean information.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she said, nodding along—gingerly.

“Breakfast is currently being served in the taproom,” he continued. “Some nourishment would doubtless prove beneficial to your condition. As well, I believe there is a young girl who wishes to speak to you before her departure.”

Jade, stuck on the peculiar thought that the words ‘your condition’ had brought to mind, took a moment to recall. “Oh—of course. I’ll get ready and head down there.”

Hendrik inclined his head and stepped toward the door again. Jade rubbed her eyes and glanced about the room, wondering where on Erdrea her boots might have ended up.

“Princess.” His voice brought her attention to him once more. The knight had paused, one gloved hand resting on the doorknob. Jade saw him swallow tightly. “Last night...”

She tensed and dropped her gaze, fingers digging into the sheets beneath her. It was obvious what he would say, of course: a self-flagellating apology, a loud declaration never to lose himself like that again, a stern avowal of all his mistakes. The real Hendrik was not the one who had looked at her with his heart in his eyes before he’d kissed her, soft and true; he was _Sir_ Hendrik, Hero of the Last Bastion and the Luminary’s sword, shield, and unswerving companion.

A Hendrik whose walls were back up, as if they’d always been—and with many new ones besides.

“Everything that I have done these past months has been for the singular goal of defeating the Lord of Shadows,” he said in a resolute voice. “If we are to have any chance of success, then this _must_ be my—our—only focus. There is too much at stake for it to be otherwise.”

Jade closed her eyes; at that moment, she had never hated anything more than the fact that he was right.

“But...” Her eyes flew back open, startled by this unexpected conjunction. Hendrik had turned to her, something unfathomable in his gaze as it locked onto hers.

“But if, by the grace of the Luminary, we _do_ find ourselves victorious,” he continued, throat bobbing, “then there are clearly matters that we must...speak on, afterward. Together. I swear to you now that I will let _nothing_ stand in the way of this, when the time comes.”

Jade stared at him, her stomach suddenly filling with a whirlwind of fluttering warmth. She cleared her throat and managed to grab her voice before it outright floated away.

“Well, I’m certainly going to hold you to that, Hendrik,” she said lightly, fixing him with a penetrating look. “So don’t even _think_ about sequestering yourself on Mount Pang Lai in a fit of knightly remorse, or I’ll make you regret it.”

He started guiltily at that, and she wondered if she’d perhaps hit closer to home than she’d thought. He recovered quickly, however, and made her a short bow. “I would expect nothing less, Your Highness.”

“Good. I look forward to... _speaking_ with you later.” This she infused with every last bit archness she possessed, and she exulted in the blush that immediately shot up to the roots of his hair. How interesting: it turned out there _was_ some minor remedy for hangovers, and it involved teasing insufferably proper knights within an inch of their lives.

When he finally opened the door to leave, she again stopped him.

“Hendrik,” she called, one hand on her hip as she stood beside the bed.

He turned. “Yes, Princess?”

Jade met his eyes, clear and steady. “After everything that’s happened...I won’t regret these past two days. I can’t.”

She saw his shoulders tense noticeably before relaxing again. “Nor can I,” he said quietly.

And if her head hadn’t started trying to skewer her with what seemed to be entire _greatswords_ this time, she would have grabbed his ridiculously noble face and kissed him senseless.

 

* * *

 

Jade’s young friend seemed quite dejected at the prospect of leaving. Her braids drooped and she stared at her shoes much as she had during their first meeting.

“The beaches of Lonalulu really _are_ lovely,” the princess assured her. “I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time.”

“Even with _brothers?_ ” the girl asked, doubt dripping from her voice.

Jade leaned in close. “Well, if all else fails, you can just push them into the water,” she whispered confidentially. The young girl brightened considerably at this idea.

“I hope your friends come back soon,” she said to Jade. She seemed about to say something else, but then Hendrik appeared in the taproom and joined them; the girl immediately turned pink and was unable to speak for the remainder of the encounter.

Young or old, he certainly seemed to have an effect on the ladies, Jade thought with fond exasperation as she waved her good-byes to the departing family.

“I’ll go to the front desk and check out,” she told Hendrik. “You gather the equipment and we’ll wait in the square.”

“Of course...beloved,” he replied, eyeing a nearby serving girl who was scrubbing a table. Jade considered reminding him that they no longer strictly _needed_ to keep up any pretense of their spurious marriage, but then thought the better of it—and if not the better, then at least the more fun.

Parsi was flipping through a magazine when Jade approached the desk. She glanced up briefly before returning to her perusal with an ostentatious show of indifference.

“We’ll be leaving, then,” Jade offered helpfully.

The innkeeper grunted.

“I suppose you’ll be wanting the key back,” she added, holding out the implement in question.

After a moment, Parsi reached out and took it. “I had expected you to forget, I think so,” she sniffed. “Young people always seem to.”

“Well, I didn’t,” Jade smiled. “Give our best to Mony and his wife, if you would.”

Another grunt, and the princess mentally shrugged and turned away. She hadn’t walked five steps before Parsi called out to her, however: “Miss!”

Jade turned, half-expecting some last-minute thaw, perhaps, complete with parting words of wisdom about marriage and her good wishes for their future. The world felt a very different place than it had two days ago, and she’d found herself more often surprised with it than not.

“That end table you knocked over during your _activities_ ,” Parsi said with a scowl. “The leg was damaged and I needed to replace it. You owe me fifty gold for this, yes?”

Or perhaps, Jade thought with resignation as she pulled out her coin purse, it was a bit much to expect _everything_ to change.

Outside, it was the kind of morning that could only come after days of steady rain and stormy weather. The sun seemed just a little brighter behind the haze that covered the sky, and birds flitted about excitedly, trying to make up for lost time. The lanterns of Phnom Nonh glowed steadily from their sturdy ropes as they illuminated the lively steps of the townsfolk in their errands.

Jade and Hendrik had just reached the centre of the square when there was a burst of activity at the front entrance.

“Jade! Hendrik! Oh, we’re _ever_ so glad to see you!” Serena was all smiles as she ran toward them, her short hair rustling in the breeze. The others were close behind her, just as relieved and delighted in their respective ways.

“You’re all here!” Jade cried out, rushing forward with a wide smile. “We were so worried about what might have happened! Thank goodness it was the Zoom, after all.”

“Oh, if _only_ , honey,” Sylvando lamented with a dramatic flip of his hand. “If it was just _that_ then we could’ve picked you up with Cetacea days ago. No, you wouldn’t _believe_ the trouble we’ve been getting into!”

“Yeah, thanks to _someone_ deciding we should follow up on a crazy rumour about the Cryptic Crypt,” Erik cut in, glaring at Rab.

The old man’s mustache twitched as he crossed his arms defensively. “Now, laddie, when ye’ve been around the world a time or two the way I have, ye start to get a sense of these things—”

“A sense of getting trapped in a _dungeon!_ You know how much I hate that!”

Jade basked in the warm familiarity of her friends’ companionship, feeling like something profound had slotted back into place. She looked over at Hendrik. He had one of those rare smiles on his face as he assured himself of the Luminary’s health, safety, and—from the sounds of their conversation—good diet.

“So what have _you_ two been up to?” Sylvando asked, interrupting her thoughts. “It’s probably a little dull around here without my Soldiers, eh?”

She shared a quick glance with Hendrik. “Ah—well, not too much,” she hedged. “We managed to clear up a couple problems for the townsfolk, but otherwise...”

“During our stay here, the princess and I proved the strength of true Heliodorian alliance,” Hendrik declared, completely unnecessarily. “The trials we have endured will doubtless help to ensure our victory in the coming battles against our foes.”

“Yes, and that,” Jade agreed.

Serena cupped her cheek as she looked up at the hazy sky. “Unless anyone has any other business here, should we perhaps be getting on? We still have to talk to the Sultan, you know.“

“And with any luck, he didnae sell that Hammer to fund his latest silly scheme,” Rab said with a shake of his head. “All right—come on, you lot!”

Sylvando sidled over to Jade as they began to pack up the purchased equipment from the crate. “True Heliodorian alliance, hm?” he murmured slyly. “Now that wouldn’t have anything to do with the hickey on your neck, would it, darling?”

Jade clapped her hand to her throat, feeling her sudden blush racing up to meet it. Hendrik looked over at them curiously and she forced herself into nonchalance once more, determined to prove that the word of _this_ princess could always be counted on.

But as so often happened, of course, the matter was soon rendered completely and wholly moot.

“Thank you for your stay!” one of the inn’s serving girls called as she noticed them about to Zoom away. “And congratulations again on your marriage!”

The entire party wheeled as one. “ _Marriage?_ ”

Jade paused a moment and glanced up at Hendrik, whose countenance now sported a rather sickly cast.

“It’s sort of a long story,” she said with a shrug. Then a mischievous smile came over her face. “But I’m sure Hendrik here would be _delighted_ to tell it to you.”


End file.
